Tribute X
by blackedawne
Summary: Many aspects of the Games have changed since the first. Views, rules and even the main purpose of the Hunger Games have changed dramatically. Not that anyone besides Azalea has taken notice. Her will may just take her right to danger's door. 99th HG
1. Lies

_**TRIBUTE X**_

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of Suzanne Collins' characters, nor am I Suzanne Collins (though I can dream). _

_**Author's Note:** Azalea, Silene, Felix, Remus, etc. are all mine. Please do not copy (not like anyone would want to. XD) _

_Azalea is our main character in our story here. However, the POV may change for short periods of time throughout the story. I won't indicate so, (sorry. XD)_

_Comments and Criticism are greatly welcome. If you guys want me to put up a Guide of the Districts, I will willingly do so. Just say the word. :D_

_And Finally, I hope you enjoy!_

_Part 1: Tribute X  
_

"So how do you feel?" This was a wretched question. It wasn't that she didn't have an answer; it was more a feeling that she didn't feel comfortable saying it while this was broadcasted live.

"To be honest, I'm not sure how I feel…" she began with a lie. "It's something I can't read, which amazes me." The audience laughed. "I guess only time can tell. I'm afraid I'm not sure right now." She knew it was good to leave it off like that.

"Really? No… pride, or sorrow, grief? I mean, you've just won the 99th Hunger Games. Don't you feel something?" She knew he wasn't lying about that. She had won, and she did feel something. She knew its name. But she obviously didn't say it. "I never said I felt nothing. I guess it's a mix of all that. I can describe it as overwhelming at least." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm going to miss all those I've been with throughout the games, and I'll be glad that I'll never see this place again. No offense."

The audience laughed again, as did the man who was interviewing. His name was Remus Flickerman, conveniently the son of the previous interviewer. His hair was a fiery red at the ends, like it had recently been lit aflame, and his suit glittered the same color. (His hair was naturally a dark brown.) And he was just as charming as his father had been for the cameras.

"None taken. I assume after all this corruption you want to go back to your normal life, eh?" There was no doubt that's what she wanted. But she knew that was exactly what she would never get. You couldn't have a normal life after you were a tribute to the Hunger Games.

"Oh, most definitely." She leaned back into the couch and rested her hands behind her head.

"What are you going to do first?" Remus asked with curiosity in his tone. He leaned forwards, placing his elbows on his knees.

"I'm going to sit back like this and try to forget you people." She smirked. Once again the audience roared with laughter. _They don't take anything seriously, do they?_

"Honestly, I just want to go home and dive into a deep pool of clear water, without having to worry that there's someone behind my back wanting to kill me." Her fire-orange eyes gleamed with lost longing. "It's the one place I can think really. It's the one place where I can trace back my memories and get lost in the past." Her tone was sincere and soft.

Remus smiled. "That's a beautiful thought, Azalea. How about a round of applause for our brilliant young lady?" The crowd howled and cheered with a thunderous applause. Azalea wondered how many of them really liked her. "You've been through a lot, Azalea. And if it's what you want, I hope we never see you again either." The crowd laughed. "No offense."

"None taken." She flashed a grin and sat straight again in her dress. It was meant to resemble the flower she was named after, Azalea, the white kind. At the tips it faded to orange though, and the body portion was a pure white. It only reached to her knees, and it frilled out like petals at the ends. She wore white slip-ons too; she never liked heels. Azalea told her stylist she was a runner, not some fashion model who loved to kill their ankles.

"And that's our lovely Azalea Fellin. A final applause, if you will!" Everyone in the crowd rose to their feet, and from what she could see, most of them were cheering and hooting. Azalea flashed one more friendly grin for them as the cameras shut down and the lights flickered off. She didn't change her countenance after they went off either. She knew there were going to be more people waiting, waiting to talk to her and ask her more questions. It was going to be an endless torture.

"Hey, great job up there, if I'd say so, myself." Remus' silky voice whispered into her ear behind her. "The crowd loves you."

"Yeah, well…" Azalea smiled and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. She ran her fingers through her dark brown hair. It had been curled at the ends, another courtesy of her stylist. "They'll grow to love a lot of people. I certainly won't be the last tribute, at this rate."

Remus' coat sparkled even though the darkness and his eyes glowed too, a soft periwinkle she had observed early on. He smirked, showing his pearly white teeth. "That is true. But certainly you'll be among their favourites." He fixed his collar and led her out. She was slightly confused when she realized there weren't any obnoxious crowds of people, or flashing lights. It was a long glass hallway, which had a good view of the Capitol that led to the room that she was going to be in for only one more day. "Where are we going?"

"I'm leading you the long way around, so you can avoid the crowds. I know you have distaste for the interviewers. And the cameras." He grinned.

Azalea didn't want to make him feel that way. "You're not like them. You won't stalk me all the way back to District 9." District 9, her home, and a place she couldn't wait to get back to, in a way. But she knew it would never really feel like home again, no matter how hard she thought.

A laugh broke from Remus' lips. "Aye, I won't be doing that. I've got matters to attend to here. I'll leave that job for the others."

"Meanie." She teased as they walked through a door, leading them into a large red room. The walls had gold patters swirling up from the bottom, and trying to reach for the top. The furniture lining was gold too, but the wood was a mahogany. Waiting at a mirror was her stylist, a young man, whose skin was tanned a little and his hair was a jet black. It was tinged golden at the ends, like Remus' hair was; only it was pulled back. He wore a simple tan t-shirt, worn out jeans and black sneakers. He _seemed_ like no special stylist. But whoever thought that was quickly proven wrong. He smirked as they entered.

"Finally, Remus, I thought you were just going to annoy me and take her through the interview crowds."

"I could have, if I wanted to, Felix. But I decided I'd rather not get this nice suit dirty. Thanks, by the way, for having it made. It's lovely." His grin was slightly mischievous.

"Aye, no problem." He had a long stride as he walked over to the two of them. He threw a small sack of money to Remus. "And thank you." He nodded curtly. _So this wasn't a matter of kindness, it was just because he was being paid. Bastard.  
_

Remus caught it in midair and it disappeared into the coat. Then he nodded curtly back and raised his hand in a farewell salute. "See ya, Felix. And you too, Azalea. Don't worry, we'll meet again soon. At your victory tour, remember?"

Inwardly, she cursed. No, she hadn't forgotten, she just didn't want to be reminded. "Aye, let's not rush it now." She let her countenance remain calm and smooth. Remus left the glorious room laughing.

The moment the door slammed behind Remus, a frown broke Felix's face, replacing the smug smirk that only existed a few moments ago. He turned his gaze onto Azalea and tugged at her shoulder, forcing her to sit down. She fell into a sitting position on to the fluffy red couch. "Alright, what's going on here?"

"What do you mean, 'what's going on here'? Between me and Remus? Nothing, that guy just annoys the heck out of me." _Not completely true, but just to prove a point._ Felix shoved his palm into her shoulder. "You know darn well that's not what I meant."

"Then what the heck did you mean? I'm not a mind reader, Felix!" Azalea raised her voice. _Not yet._ A dark, smooth voice said calmly in the back of her mind. Her eyes flared, really looking like fire now, showing the kind of anger when you have no idea what's going on.

"I'm talking about your strategy; and how you act so calmly about it in front of the cameras!" he tried to lower his voice; it was a failed attempt. "I knew you were intelligent, Lea, but I didn't realize you were a sly fox." He spat at the end, as if there was nightshade on his tongue. That pair of chocolate brown eyes were filled of rage; but that was only a veil to the real betrayal he felt inside. Though he knew the betrayal wasn't his.

"I'm not a sly fox!" she exclaimed in outrage. "I was trying to stay alive! Like everyone else was out there. And my odds were low from the beginning…"

"Oh yeah, sure. Miss 'I got rated a three, but I managed to kill about a dozen or more tributes in cold blood'. _Sure_ your odds were really low." Felix's was pressing his lips together, even after all the blood had left them. He turned his back to her, questioning why he was even talking to her right now. He wanted to know if she had planned it all from the beginning. He wanted to know why she did what she did, and if she was really thinking about them, or her victory. But all his thoughts only managed to come out as one question. "What were you thinking… when they called your name?"

Azalea's gaze went soft. The fire had waned in her eyes. She knew she didn't want to remember that. But there were plenty of things about it she was going to remember. Slowly, her mind swirled back into that time, which seemed so long ago. All the pictures flashed before her eyes, as if she was there once more. Back to the time before she truly knew fear. Fear and death.


	2. Before Disaster

It was a pretty bleak morning, in her opinion. The sky was a very dull gray-blue and there were storm clouds heading for the direction of District 9. The sun was bright, but it was also blinding. It hurt her eyes too much. She was resting on the side of the old wooden house, with her upper back supporting her. Her knees were bent and her arms were folded over her chest. She inhaled the musty air and yawned. _Must have fallen asleep outside again._ Azalea thought. She shook her head to start her mind and looked down at her clothes.

She was still wearing the 'holey' jeans (her only pair) which were filthy from the mud bath she was given yesterday, courtesy of some kids at school she really disliked. She was wearing a forest green zip up hoodie; which was big on her and the sleeves had been cut off to the elbow before she received it. And she wore her necklace, the only one she ever dared to wear. The beads were made of wood, from some distant land she knew not of the name, and at the end was a peach stone, shaped like the tooth of a lion. Her grandfather had given it to her, the day before his death. Just to prevent it from being stolen or broken, she told the other kids that there was a curse on it; the last kid who tried disappeared. (There was conveniently a kid who went missing only a few months before.)

As she rose she cracked her neck, exposing it to the sunlight. Her hair fell back. It wasn't extremely long; it only went a little past her shoulders. And until about a year ago, she couldn't keep it straight down.

Azalea stretched her limbs forwards and shut her eyes, trying to think of a peaceful land beyond. It was quite difficult, considering the reaping was tomorrow. The 99th Hunger Games; this was going to be a mess. Nine years ago the Capitol decided to change the rules up, every three years they sent another boy and girl, four total tributes for each district. That made 48 tributes. Fascinating. _It just raises everyone's chances of getting in higher. _She guessed they had decided that because the 89th Hunger Games had been so short, even though 24 was still a big number of people to her.

Just as she was about to calculate odds, a warm voice pierced the air. "Azalea!" it called. "Azalea! Where are you!?"

"Right here, mum!" She stretched her arms upwards and walked over the log-pile to meet her mother. She blinked the weariness from her eyes to get a better view. Her mother looked young for those who were her age. Most people said she looked exactly like her mother, save for her eyes. They both shared the same fair skin, round face, close in hair color and length, and Azalea was only about a centimeter shorter than her mother at the time. Only their eyes could let people see the difference. Her mother's eyes had a rosy, spring-like feeling to them, Azalea's reminded people of a small summer fire.

"Where were you?" she asked, though not sternly. No, she could never really be stern, even if she tried.

"I fell asleep out by the log pile again." Azalea rubbed her eyes. "Sorry."

"Did you finish that homework?" Azalea nodded in reply. _When do I not finish it?_ She was up higher with her grades than most of the kids her age. She wasn't irresponsible in the slightest. "Good." Abelia sighed, (that was her mother's name.) Azalea knew she wouldn't have to worry about homework tonight. They didn't get homework the day before they called the tributes. "Did I miss breakfast?"

"Nope, you're up early. You haven't missed a thing. Why, are you hungry?" Any other week Azalea would have immediately accepted and her mouth would have watered tremendously. But today, more than any other days earlier in the week, her stomach seemed to have shrunk into a small pit. She wasn't hungry. She shook her head. "Nah, if I'm early…" she rubbed the back of her head as she walked back into the cozy home with her mother. A small voice in the back of her head was taunting her. _You'll need as much as you can get. Who knows? You could be the next tribute. I mean your odds _are_ higher this year._ For now, she decided to ignore it.

-----------

"Near the log pile, again?" Luke asked with his mouth full of sweet herbs. Her older brother's real name was Lucius, but no one called him that. From almost the start, he was known as Luke. Azalea nodded, just staring down at her full plate. She was torturing herself by looking at it. "You're really weird."

"I understand that. What's better than falling asleep with a clear view of the heavens?" Azalea didn't look up, but a smile broke her face. Good youthful Jasmine. Her younger sister usually backed her up on these kinds of things, she looked up to her. Azalea had taught her a lot of what she knew, and helped her get high grades in school. And Jasmine taught her how to relax and enjoy life sometimes, lay back and not think; (which was a very difficult thing to do for a person like Azalea.)

"I can tell you." Luke said, pointing a bent fork at Jasmine. "Not getting chosen as a tribute, and second helpings." He lifted up his plate. "Speaking of which, can I?"

"No. There is little left for your father anyway. And don't speak of that so soon, will you?" Luke loved food. He had grown up around it. And he loved trees, for he had grown up around them too. He also, at the age of 18, had not been picked for the Hunger Games, yet. And it was his last year he could possibly be a tribute. A lot of the neighbors said his chances were high this year though; having the number of tributes raised didn't make that any better. Jasmine's chances were higher too, although she was only 12 and a half. Azalea didn't like thinking about that.

"Fine." Luke rose to his feet and began the pile of dishes. Then at the door he picked up a burlap sack. "I'm off then. I'll be back by dinner." That usually translated to, 'Save some of supper for me because I probably won't be back 'til late' for Luke. Azalea had lived with him too long to not know. Luke didn't go to school; he had always liked hunting better. Not that he wasn't intelligent, or a good strategist, he just preferred a life without boundaries more (less boundaries, considering there had always been boundaries around the Districts.)

Just as the door slammed shut, her father came down the stairs. "Luke's gone?"

Abelia nodded. "Good then, he didn't steal my breakfast!" he laughed as he put his hand on Jasmine's head and the other on Azalea's shoulder. His name was Brutus. He was a little taller than average height, with brown, graying hair, spectacles and forest green eyes. He had a charming grin too, contributing to what won her mother over years before. He was a pretty humble man, but when he was in the middle of doing something great, you didn't disturb him. He may have been born and raised in District 9, but he had the heart of one in District 3 or 6. He liked to invent things, without the Capitol's consent. But rules never stopped him. It puzzled Azalea why a man like him didn't defy the Capitol in the first place.

"You two excited for tomorrow?" he asked teasingly.

"No way!" Jasmine exclaimed, in a horrified tone.

"Oh most definitely." Azalea liked to go with her father's jokes because he was the only one who couldn't be less serious about the games. And his brother (he had been one of seven) had gone to the Hunger Games when he was only 10.

Abelia slapped him with a dishrag. "Brutus! This is not a joking matter! Especially at the table!" She was worried for all her children; they were all qualified for certain death.

He laughed. "You're right." He rose to his feet. "I'm sorry Lia." He pulled her close and kissed her.

"Aww…" Jasmine crooned. She liked that kind of mushy stuff. Azalea wasn't one for it, but she watched. Her father held his mother in his arms; she rested her head on his shoulder. Azalea smiled. She was glad her parents were close. These days a lot of couples were bagging each other. She watched for another moment and she saw her father wink in her direction. As smart as she was, she couldn't interpret the gesture. Was it to keep her secure? Was it for good luck? She wished she knew.

But she was sure of one thing; she wished she could be like him. He was so calm about this mess of the country they called Panem, and all the struggles of life. He could care less about the Hunger Games and the Capitol and the boundaries of the Districts. And he could make anyone else feel secure and determined too. There were no… _What's the right word?_... flaws. He didn't have any flaws about him, none. He was perfect to her. She was proud she was his daughter, but she wanted more. She wished she were him.


	3. Gamble Hill

"Alright class, as you know, you're going to be let out early today because of tomorrow's reaping; and therefore, homework is unnecessary." Ms. Cress had said this every year, to all of her students. She had been teaching for about 30 years now. Her graying hair was pulled back in a bun and her glasses were hung over her bent nose.

Some of the kids in Azalea's class were staring at the only half-working clock that hung on the far side of the room. Some were itching to run out, some were just counting down the minutes until the reaping. No one really liked the actual reaping, but by her age, no one really cared either. But the reaping was why Ms. Cress had never married; she hadn't wanted to risk the lives of the children. Azalea compared her immensely to her father; one of those people who strongly disliked the Capitol, but for some unknown reason didn't defy against it.

Azalea's fire-like eyes watched her teacher intently. She never knew if it was the last she was going to see of her. There was a thin wooden baton in her hands, no one knew why she carried it around, or where she got it from, but without it, she never seemed like Ms. Cress.

"I'm going to say something else you know I say every year. But please believe me when I say every year I mean it more and more truly." She took a few curt steps forward. "I hate to see when my own students are chosen for this. And I will say if it happens tomorrow it shall not be the first time. And it saddens me so." Some of the kids were rolling their eyes. Azalea didn't really like those kinds of kids anyway; the ones who thought life was a big joke, and nothing was wrong with the world. Azalea straightened and folded her hands, one over the other.

"Just to prevent disaster, I think it's a terrible solution. Entertainment should not come out of watching helpless children die at the hands of their enemies," she slapped the stick on the desk of a boy, Rossen was his name, who looked like he was falling asleep. His head shot right up; there were a few stifled sneers on the opposite side of the room."And their allies." She finished. "Unfortunately, all I can say and do for you all is 'good luck' and 'may the games be in your favor'. I'd rather not see any faces missing from my class anytime soon."

She shot a glance at the boy in the front, with a toothpick in his mouth and was carving something out of wood. His hair was messy, and he was a very bad person in general. Azalea didn't see what many of the other girls saw in him. "Yes, even you, Sors." The class laughed as he looked up. "Aye Ms. C." _Sors, _Azalea thought. _Minor god of luck. How suiting._ She really hoped he was chosen. He was so lazy, he needed something to make him jump and flee. He did have a lot of luck, on terms of not getting caught.

Ms. Cress looked out the dirty window, seeing the sun falling from its peak. "Oh, fly. All of you, go. Out!" No one hesitated; everyone grabbed their things and fled out the door. All except Azalea and her best friend, Silene. Silene was like her; smart, not very social around the other kids, but very true and loyal. She didn't know what she could do without her. Just as they both were about to take a step out the door, Ms. Cress called their names. They stopped dead in their tracks and spun around. "Yes, Ms. Cress?" they chorused in unison.

A warm, sympathetic smile broke their teacher's face as she came in front of them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "I want you two to know you are my favorite students." They both smiled at that. "And should either of you be chosen tomorrow, please understand that I will fall into a deep mourning. Should both of you be chosen, I may just have to give up my teaching job." Silene laughed at that, but Azalea felt that a part of her may not have been joking. She laughed anyway, but only softly. The elder woman inhaled deeply, as if savoring a final moment, and then embraced the two together. Of course, even though they were 15, they didn't care.

"Good luck girls; may the moon shine brightly upon your faces." This had always been something she had said, for she didn't like saying 'May the games be in your favor'. Ms. Cress knew only too well that the games were truly in no one's favor.

"Thank you." Silene embraced her once more tightly.

"And please understand that you're our favorite teacher too. If we lose you, we won't know what to do either." Azalea spoke on both of their behalves. They heard both Ms. Cress' laughter and quiet sobs as they left the musty old building.

---------------

Most of the kids never went home immediately. They hung out around the small hills nearby the school, doing all sorts of things; fighting, arguing, gossiping, laying down, laughing and chasing each other around in games of ultimate tag. But today, the hills were a place of the gambling. Silene and Azalea tried to steer clear of that. Gambling with the more popular kids was never something one would truly want to do, unless they were stupid, or they were their close friends.

"It's a solution to those people who want to get poor faster." Silene said as they passed the first hill, the smallest one of them all. Azalea laughed. "You got that right." Looking at her friend now, she could say she was the best person she could have ever met. Her skin was darker than hers, a natural tan, with jet black hair, which she always kept nicely back in a ponytail, chocolate brown eyes and pearly white teeth (which Azalea envied her for when they were younger.) She was also the smartest person at their age, though she denied it, and the kindest person she ever met. She never had heard her talk about someone badly ever, and she always kept her promises. She didn't know how she could manage it all. Azalea considered herself very lucky.

Everything remained normal and calm; they even believe they could pass everything unnoticed, until they reached the eighth hill. From behind, someone had firmly grasped their shoulders. "Hey, wait up, guys!" a hushed hiss passed into their ears. Azalea and Silene both sighed their relief that it was their friend, Hector. In their opinion, he was the only normal guy their age. He didn't like getting involved in the gambles either, and he was pretty intelligent too.

They split apart a little to give him some room. "Of course." Silene grinned.

"Man, Sors' crew was about to chase me down. I need some cover you know?" his threw his arms over his head, as if it were to provide him cover. The girls laughed. "Yeah, we're trying to steer clear of them too. Honestly, do they think we really want to gamble on who's bound to die next?"

"Amen." Hector smirked. He surpassed both of them height wise, his hair was messy and black, and his eyes were a dull green, though they shone.

"But you should." A haughty voice said beside them. They were at the tenth hill, the largest one, where many of Sors' gang would race and gamble. Their gazes reluctantly wandered to see its owner, Sors. A charming, mischievous smile had been placed on his face, and the group of guys behind him shared the exact countenance.

It ticked Azalea off, when they took a high authority, like they ruled the place. Roughly, she shoved her bag, into Hector's hands. She placed her hands on her hips, and stormed in their direction. "Ooh, looks like you've got a taker, Sors." One of them sneered. Azalea scowled at the boy. "I'd like to know why we should." Her gaze shot back to Sors.

"Because everyone does. And if you won't accept that answer, it's preparation. It's better to be more aware of your odds. So the shock doesn't come up so… petrifying." She narrowed her eyes. She was surprised that word was even his vocabulary.

"That's a terrible reason anyway." she growled back.

Sors reached into his pocket and pulled out a sack of coins. "Come on, you know you want to. I know one of your lifelong dreams is to see me killed in the Hunger Games." Azalea took that as a challenge.

Silene and Hector looked fearfully for their friend as she looked back towards them. _I know I really shouldn't do this…_ When she averted her gaze once more back to Sors, she ripped the sack out of his hands. "It's not one of my lifelong dreams. It _is_ my lifelong dream." She threw her hair back and headed up the hill. "Looks like we've got a taker, boys." He said victoriously, and pursued her up the hill, like a mass of hunting dogs.

Silene and Hector exchanged a wary glance. They both thought the same thing. _We need to support her._ Without another second wasted, they raced up the hill after all of them.

---------------

"Welcome, first-timers, to the Gambling Hill of Sors. I'm your host, yours truly, Sors. Duh." The gang smirked. "Dare to bet at your own risk. You can bet pretty much anything. Money is most common, but we always like to make this game more… interesting." The grin on his face was pixie-like and malicious now.

They all sat with their legs crossed, not in a circle but with two sides. Those were clear; one side for Sors and his gang and another for the opposing team. (There was also a side where the spectators stood, but Azalea put that out of her head.) The sun was sinking into the horizon. "Alright, usually we're pretty nice about this, and we let you guys bet first." _Usually?_

"But today, we decided since we you got to the top first, we should get to bet first, eh? Sound like a deal?" Silene was narrowing her eyes right now, as she sat on one side of her friend. Hector was seated on the other side, his eyes full of hatred for the team that faced him. _I'm so fortunate._ Azalea shrugged. "Very well."

Sors' vibrant blue eyes jumped from her, to Silene, to Hector while he determined the bets and odds. When he was finished, he lifted his chin and started a small pile of coins. "For your guy friend over there." Three of his posse threw in a few coins into that pile as well. The rest just watched intently. _Good,_ Azalea thought. _They don't think his chances are high in getting into the games. _

His next pile was for her. The entire horde; save for two of them, built up the pile, a larger amount of coins, a lighter and some loaves of bread. Sors himself didn't bet anything. "You know, I would bet on you… but your odds confuse me. Really and truly they do." He smiled. _As if that was a compliment._

And she knew the last pile was for Silene. "And for the songbird over here." He winked and grinned widely towards her. Silene returned that with a scowl, she curled her lip. He put his hand to his chin, pondering for another moment. This final smile was dark, evil almost. He took a large sack of coins from his shirt and threw it into the pile. Then he took out two lighters, and, worst of all, he placed his best hunting knife into the pile. He didn't say another word. Everyone on his side placed their bets in the pile too. Even some from the spectators' side threw some in.

Azalea couldn't think of a worse insult. They had high thoughts that Silene was going to be one of the next tributes. And with that, she knew they thought she probably wouldn't survive. That burden was what Sors put in her own pile, not nothing.

In utter rage as they laughed, she threw three-quarters of her weekly salary in a new pile, her own hunting knife, a silver trap spike and her necklace, the one she couldn't dare be parted with. She lifted her chin up, angrily. "That's for your right-hand man there." She knew his name, it was Derek. He was a tall boy, with really short, dirty-blond hair, dark brown eyes and a slight unnatural tan. She had liked him at one point; now she could never understand why. And she knew his odds were high. They were high every year; he was one of six children, and with his father working almost full-time, he was the man of the house. He had a lot to support.

Of course, this ticked Sors off. He knew as much as she did about that, and he wouldn't deny it. Derek was his closest ally as Silene was hers. She left a pile for Sors himself. Hector actually threw in his hunter bag and a few coins for that one. Some spectators joined that bet, daringly. "I would bet on you, but your odds confuse me, _really_ and _truly_ they do." Azalea said with a mocking tone, making Silene and Hector smirk.

Sors narrowed his gaze. "I thought you said that necklace was 'cursed'." He made the gesture with his fingers.

"It still is. Oh don't worry." She grinned. "It won't curse you. Yet." Sors pressed his lips together until there was no blood left in them and tightened his jaw. A swift hand swept the bets off the ground and into his arms. "Anything else?"

"Nope." Azalea rose contently, after she took a hold of the bets for her side.

"Then we'll be seeing you tomorrow at the reaping," Sors replaced the scowl with a smug smirk. "Azalea…"

There was no hesitation in his step. The rest of the crowd followed him like a flock of sheep, like the looming storm clouds. Azalea, Silene and Hector remained at the top, looking down victoriously, even though they couldn't be sure of that until tomorrow. Once the 'posse' was out of sight Azalea spun around and embraced her friends tightly. "Thanks for sticking by me, guys."

Hector and Silene embraced her back. "No problem, Lea." Hector smiled.

"Why wouldn't we stick by you?" Silene strengthened her grip.

After a few more thanks and farewells, they made their way down the hill, Hector parting from the girls to reach his own home. Silene looked back as his figure disappeared into the forest that existed behind the hills. "Azalea?"

"Yeah, Silene?" Azalea looked at her with wide eyes.

"Thanks," She looked down, and said sheepishly. "For having my back over there. But you didn't have to, you know. Everyone knows my odds are high."

One arm wrapped around Silene's shoulder, with a friendly passion. "Silene, I would never forgive myself if I didn't back you up. And there could never be a reason that I wouldn't. I don't give a damn what they say or what they think. You are ten times better than all of them. I'll willingly volunteer to go in Sors' place for the Hunger Games before I let you go."

In the dusk light, Azalea thought she saw tears at the corners of Silene's eyes. In one abrupt movement, Silene leaned over, embraced her and cried lightly on her shoulder. "Azalea, have I ever told you you're the best friend I've ever had? Well… the _only_ best friend I've ever had?"

Azalea hugged her back. "Yeah. And you're the same for me."

Little did Azalea know, this was the final satisfying, happy, warm moment she would ever encounter for the remainder of her life.


	4. Echo Reaping

The following morning felt rushed and overwhelming. And for some reason it felt about 10 degrees warmer than it actually was. Azalea didn't know if sitting by the window contributed to that. The mirror that she looked into was broken unevenly down the side, and small, but otherwise it worked just fine. She turned her head to a profile view as she tied her hair back with a thin, dark green ribbon, and knotted it into a loose bow. Then she let her hands rest upon her lap and looked at the person staring back at her.

Even on occasions like this, she never wore make-up. She thought make-up just hid the true person someone was; the people who wore it weren't confident with themselves. Her dress matched the ribbon; same color, a velvety material and brown twine twisted for a neck border. Taking a breath in, she closed her eyes, and tried to find a peace within herself. She had done this every time before the reaping, since Luke was old enough to be a tribute. It had been the only way she could stay, at the very least, sane. She didn't go and gather with her family before it; looking upon Jasmine and Luke made guilt rise up inside of her. _If either of them gets chosen today… I don't know what I'll do. _

The knot in her stomach twisted painfully as she was called downstairs. She meandered and procrastinated as much as possible to avoid seeing the faces of her siblings. But she had to come down sooner or later. The last step was the most inflicting on her heart, and it took her the longest to get down. When she looked up her heart broke, and her control over her emotions fled to the unknown. Jasmine was clad in a pink dress that faded to a darker shade the closer it got to the bottom hem of the dress and her hair was entwined beautifully with matching ribbons. A flower was perched behind her ear. Luke was wearing a silk, sky blue outfit, which was similar to the one he went hunting in, only it was nicer and he kept this one only for occasions like this. (There weren't many) His hair was down for once, not pulled back by mangled twine. They both smiled weakly, feeling the same way, at her. "Hey Lea." They said in unison.

She could just barely keep the tears in. "Hey." They both had high chances of getting in. _This may be the last time I ever see them._ "Hey guys." Her voice was shaky; she thought her spine was crumbling. Jasmine couldn't contain herself either; in one swift movement she took a leap forward and embraced her too tightly. Azalea returned the gesture and Luke came in slowly. Throughout the small house, you could hear a melody of pitiful, soft sobs.

"I wish these stupid Games didn't exist." Jasmine cried. Luke stroked her hair. "We know, Minnie. We feel the same way." He was handling this best. It took them a little while to realize their parents were standing in the doorway to the entrance of the hall. Their countenances were both sympathetic and sad. Brutus' arm was wrapped around Abelia's shoulders. "You three ready?" Their mother asked, even though she knew they never truly would be.

But everything has to move on and end at some point. They nodded and kissed the cold skin of their parents' cheek as they sulked to the door. Azalea felt the weight of her emotions, as if she were chained by her ankles, dragging behind her as they ventured over to the reaping.

* * *

Having the large throng of people around her; she had never felt comfortable with it. On the opposite side of the crowd, she could hear several stifled whimpers and cries. A small boy to her left, who looked about seven or so, was trembling and clutching to his mother's dress. His eyes were wide and full of wonder and fear. Azalea wondered what his life was like, considering he wasn't old enough to be drawn from the reaping, but he had to look forward to it. Someone, who was named Titus, stepped up onto the platform; where the glass orbs filled with the names of all the eligible children of District 9 inside. She felt a hand slip into hers. When she looked over, she found the warm face of Silene, in a pure white dress. She wasn't smiling, but her friend's presence made her feel good.

"Welcome, people of District 9," his voice was booming and deep. "to the Reaping of the 99th Hunger Games!" No one expected the crowd to cheer and roar their approval. A quiet applause waved through the crowd. "As you all know," Azalea noticed the shine of grease in his jet black hair. And there was a wise shine in the dark eyes of his. "Every three years, on order of the Capitol at the 90th Hunger Games, two extra tributes are chosen from each district. Today is the third anniversary of that tradition. We are one Game away from the fourth Quarter Quell, as well." _A pitiful, sickening reminder._ It was only then that she remembered something else sickening. Her eyes wandered the horde, searching for Sors and his gang. It didn't take her long to catch sight of them. They were directly across from where she stood. When Sors caught her glance she smiled devilishly, and held up her necklace. There was determined voice that came from the look in his eyes. _You're going down; you and all your little friends._

She made herself superior in the mind and lifted her chin. She sent him a final narrowed gaze before she looked back up at the stage. She had missed the speech about the Hunger Games, at least. But she still wasn't going to thank him for that.

"We'll choose the guys first!" Titus took a step to the glass orb and spun it around a few times. Then he reached in, his hand sunk deep into an ocean of paper. It didn't take him long to select one and pull free. He brought it to the level of his chest and unfolded it. Azalea could hear the blood pound at her temples, just begging to be released. _Oh please… don't let it be Luke… please…_ "Derek Rhymel!" the booming voice bellowed.

Azalea stole a quick glance at Sors. His face had drooped with disappointment and frustration; and another emotion, grief she supposed. Not only was he going to lose his right hand man, but he had just lost a bet. In the attempt to keep a straight face, he slapped Derek on the back as he parted from the group and made his way up, gloomily, beside Titus. "Does wish to volunteer in his place?" Dead silence; the only reaction of the crowd. Sors might have offered, if he weren't so self-centered and lost for words.

"The girls next!" Titus called, moving on. Azalea squeezed Silene's hand, Silene tightened her grip too. There was sweat at both of their brows. And even if this name drawn wasn't one of them, they still had to worry about the next. The procedure was repeated for the orb that represented the girls and another name was drawn. Silene was the only thing keeping her from losing control of her spine right now. "Laelia Myrica!" A small girl, with sharp brown eyes, olive skin and wavy light brown hair strutted from in front of them, and joined Derek.

Satisfaction didn't exactly hit her when her name was called. But Azalea hadn't completely loathed her, yet she could never say she had liked her either. Laelia was one of the major ones who had made fun of Silene when they were younger. And she still made fun of Silene, and now her, of course, for standing up for her. Laelia had been with the popular crowd from the start.

Soon enough the boys' container was being spun again, and Titus was choosing yet another name. Azalea thought she could relax more, when the second boy's name was chosen. Her hypothesis was wrong. If anything, she was even more nervous. Subconsciously, she began to chew on her fingernails. "Caden Dire!"

That name rang in her head for a while, repeating over and over, like an echo. _Caden Dire. Caden Dire. Caden Dire._ The dire wolf was an extinct species of dog. She remembered that. But it wasn't the first thought in her mind. _I liked that boy once._

She could see clearly from where she stood, he was parting with a family, his father, and two younger children. A hand desperately clutched his and pleaded. _That must be his girlfriend._ She thought. That was the reason she stopped liking him. Caden shot the girl, (who if she could recall correctly was named Lilac), a sympathetic gaze, and as he held it there, he slowly released her hand and made his way up to the front. She tried to mute out Lilac's sobs. Compared to the other two, Caden was a giant. He was slightly on the skinny side, but he was tall and lean. His hair was brown, (but had a tint of red to it) and his eyes were blue. Not Luke's sort of blue, a more summery misty tone. He moistened his lips and stood a little straighter.

The last name was about to be drawn. The crowd suddenly went deathly silent. _This is it…_ Azalea began to think. _Silene… oh, please Lord, not her. Not Minnie, either. No… it can't be either of them. They've got so much left to live for… please if anything…_ Titus was taking his time, a really long time, drawing the name. His hand sifted through the bowl, and spiraled around. The suspense was eating her from the inside. _Just pick already, get it over with!_

Titus could tell the rest of the crowd was feeling the same way. As gradually as possible he lifted the chosen name up to his face. Azalea's palms became sweaty, her heart pounded, she thought her ears went deaf. _Why? Why does he have to make this difficult for all of us?_ Jasmine stood nearby, gripping on Luke's arm, his hand was entwined with his little sister's. Seconds and minutes ticked by as he unfolded the piece of paper. Just when Azalea thought her ears had been shot with a gun, she could hear, crystal clear as day, what the next name was. It went off like a cannon in her ear, compared to the others. Oh yes, it was like looking through the clean glass windows. "Azalea Fellin!"


	5. An Abundance of Visitors

(I apologize, this chapter is very long. XP)

It echoed in her ears, over and over like a broken radio. Every memory, every thought that was in her mind vanished. _Is… is that _my _name? _Beside her, Silene gaped, her eyes shimmered with grief and disappointment. Her breaths were audible as small, shallow, quick gasps. It took a few more seconds to gather herself up. Pitifully, and in a heart-wrenching way, she concluded her thoughts. _Azalea Fellin is my name. And I am going to die._

In a subconscious state, she began to break from the crowd, break Silene's grasp and make her way towards death. The way up seemed very long, and the crowd had gone silent. Hundreds of pairs of eyes stared back at her, like the grave dead. Most of them showed no emotion. She wondered if that was just part of their masks. The steps creaked as she went up and joined the other tributes. She dared not glance at them. Their gazes were the only ones not fixed upon her; she wanted to keep it that way.

"Any volunteers, for Miss Fellin?" Titus gestured a hand in her direction. She didn't expect anyone to be that daring, that willing to give up their lives for her. Not even Silene or Minnie, even though they loved her so much.

"I have an objection!" A voice speared through the crowd at to her heart. _Luke?_ His body pushed through the crowd until he knew he could be clearly seen in front of the stage. "Young man, you cannot object, it is part of the Games."

From the corner of her eye, Azalea could swear she could see a group of Peacekeepers, beginning to stand firmer and more defensively at their posts.

"I don't care. I object. Can you choose another? Can I go in; I'll go for one of the boys for crying out loud!" He clenched a fist and raised it to Titus. "But please, just let her live." Those tears were returning from earlier. "Don't you dare take my sister away!"

She wanted to cry at that too. She wanted to run down, throw her arms around him and tell him he was the best brother anyone could have. But she didn't; she couldn't. She placed her right foot in front of her left. "Luke…" she managed.

"I'm afraid that can't be done. Even if you volunteer for one of the boys, she has to go in. It's the rules, Mr. Fellin."

"I'll go in for her!" Azalea's heart was melted at this point. Now it was scorched. This was exactly what she wanted to avoid.

The crowd and Luke looked back, Azalea couldn't dare look up. Bravely, Silene had broken from the crowd and pushed her way before Luke. "My name's Silene Venatra. I'll take her place." Those pair of brown eyes fiercely and earnestly glared up at Titus.

"No!" Azalea almost leaped off the stage. Two peacekeepers held her back. Now she fought the tears and the guards. "Silene, you can't."

"But I want to, Azalea. You're my friend. And besides, this town could do without me. You have a lot more to live for." Her sympathetic smile was only another weapon against her.

"That's false, Silene!" the guards still held her back, but didn't make any further movement. "There are plenty of people who need you." She didn't name them. She could fight the tears anymore, on top of the guards. _I'll fit this into a plan somehow later._ "Please… Silene…" Her voice grew hoarse, but firm. "Go back." Parts of the throng looked horrified, at her willingness to go to the Games, not taking the offer of a volunteer. Luke was one of them. It didn't come to him as a surprise that she wanted to keep Silene alive, just that she was so willing to die.

Their eyes met and locked, as if they were speaking telepathically. But they could easily read each other's eyes anyway, read how they really felt. _Silene… don't die for me. Live for me. I wouldn't be able to live any longer if I accepted your offer._

Small, almost unnoticeable quivers went through her friend's body. When the gaze tore, her head bowed down. Her only words before she returned to the crowd were, "I'm sorry."

Still overcome by the shock, Luke's gaze was fixed upon his sister, the whole way back, as he wrapped a sympathetic arm around Silene's shoulder and led her to where their families were waiting.

Azalea released the tension and pressure in her shoulders, and the Peacekeepers let her go. A few paces backwards and she was standing right beside her fellow tributes again.

"Any, um," he cleared his throat as he shot a warning glance to Luke. "Other objections?" the crowd had their right to remain silent. "Then it's settled. Lo and behold, the District 9 Tributes for the 99th Hunger Games!" the crowd roared and cheered. _Out of their spite and fear._ Azalea thought coldly. And soon after that, several Peacekeepers were pushing the tributes through the crowds and towards the Justice Building. _At least I'll be able to talk to them later…_ She didn't know how long it was going to be until they decided to visit her though, if they decided or had time to visit at all. A sigh escaped her lips. She wouldn't be surprised if no one came to visit her. _Those who want to may not have the time. _She didn't dare wish to ponder upon the fact that they may not want to; they may not want to see her face again, it would only make things worse.

As the door shut behind the four, she could hear the chatting of the rising and leaving crowd. _At least they have the freedom to leave._ With one Peacekeeper each, they were separated and shown into a single room, just in case they had visitors. The Peacekeeper left her alone with a sympathetic glance as a farewell. The door closed behind her and Azalea was alone. It was a little while before she heard any rustling through the hallways. And she knew it wasn't for her. There were too many pads of feet for it to be her. _Probably for Derek. His family's pretty big._ She could imagine the sad little faces, wandering down the hall, looking for their soon-to-be-lost brother. A shudder traveled down her spine and she closed her eyes. _All the little ones… they look up to him. He's been playing the co-role as man of the house for as long as I can remember._ She could imagine all the young faces; the youngest was still a baby, maybe a toddler now? Then there was the seven year old, and the 11 year old, then the 13 year old sister, and his 19 year old sister, who didn't exactly look up to him but he was still her brother. They were all very strong indeed.

The next set of footsteps that came in she could have easily mistaken for her own, if the steps weren't so light. _Laelia's_ _family._ She knew she had two younger brothers, one 12, the other five. And her parents had a light step too. They all had small structures, and nimble agility.

With her memories dragging her further and further away from being sane, she couldn't bear to stand by the door any longer; she knew she just had to hear Caden's siblings running down the hall and she would collapse to the floor sobbing. She pulled her body to a nearby chair, and forcefully pulled herself up into it. She felt so weak, helpless, and small. For what seemed like eternity she sat in that despairing pit, telling her that all innocence was lost so long ago. It tortured her down to every last chamber into her heart, and was seeping into her soul.

Until the knock came at the door.

In the blink of an eye, she jumped to her feet and ran to the door; wiping the last of her tears as she began to turn the knob. What she got was a heart-stopping hug that almost toppled her over from Minnie. "Lea!" she cried, Azalea could feel her warm tears fall onto her shoulder. Azalea could have cared less about the stains on her shoulder. She buried her head into Minnie's shoulder, to hide her tears and face. "I'm so sorry, Minnie." Her skinny fingers found her sister's hair, (_She must have undid it once she got home_) and ran through it. "If anyone's sorry, it's me, Lea." Minnie's breaths were ragged with the tears and sobs.

"Now, don't put the blame onto yourself, Minnie." Luke. _Oh Luke, if I've failed anyone, it's you._ Azalea gently rested Minnie back on her feet then flung herself at her brother. Her head buried into his chest and her fingers dug into his back. "I know you're mad at me, Luke. But I just couldn't let either of you into this mess."

Azalea didn't know what she expected next, a beating she supposed, or a slap to the face. But what she got instead was a pull closer and a tightened grip. "Who said I'm mad at you? Lea…" his voice cracked a little at the edges. "I'm proud of you."

That relieved her almost completely, but there was still that little bit of guilt that lingered in the depth of her heart.

The next to come in were her parents; her mother who cried and embraced her for an extended period of time and her father, who didn't break down, but talked to her calmly, as if he were teaching her something back at home.

"I want you to remember several things while you're in this, Lea. Do you hear me clearly?"

"Yeah, dad."

"First off, be strong. Don't become weak about anything; blood, death, a guy, nothing. That part shouldn't be too hard for you." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

Azalea smiled half-heartedly.

His honey-colored eyes bore into hers, warm but sincere. "Strategize. You can't win if you don't have a strategy. You can't just play the game blindly and hope everything goes in your favor. Get a good look at your competition; find their strengths, and more importantly, their weaknesses."

She nodded, trying to take it all in calmly. She found it very difficult.

"Make friends. You can't go in alone. Alliances help a bunch. Those who work alone don't get anywhere."

Her teeth sunk into her lower lip. She nodded again.

"And lastly, Lea… don't forget who you are."

She raised a brow at this. "What do you mean by that?"

He broke the gaze and smirked. "These games change people, Lea. Every single tribute that goes in is changed in some way, shape or form. You're going to have to kill someone sooner or later, Lea, if you're going to survive." He was taking this real calmly, as if having his daughter kill mercilessly was not a wretched sin.

"I don't necessarily have to kill anyone." she stated, reluctantly seeing a pool of blood at her feet in the back of her mind. No, it wasn't her nature to kill anyone. It wasn't that she hadn't killed animals before, but she always thanked for its life and prayed. How could she pray for a person who was trying to kill her, especially when she was still being chased? "They could fall, or they could eat poisonous berries or something."

"The Capitol won't allow that," her father shook his head. "When it's down to the final two." He folded his hands. "They may send something to make it more interesting. But the spectators at the Capitol want to see a bloodbath at the end, not some simple fall or poisoning." His lips curved into a frown. _Certainly he doesn't want to see a bloodbath; but he'd rather see me alive._

"So you're just saying it's completely fine with you and mom to kill those poor innocent souls who didn't even have a choice in going? You just want to see me come home safe, is that it?" her tone and temper rose. "You couldn't give a damn about those other poor families who, the only they'll be getting back is whatever's left of the carcass?" her fist clenched and she was standing upright. Her nostrils flared.

"Look, Lea, that's not what I meant." He placed his hand on her shoulder again and lowered her down back into the chair. "I'm saying that we understand if you kill someone. Yes, we do see you want to come home, but that won't make us happy seeing the deaths either. No one in the Districts likes seeing the deaths of innocent children they once knew."

Azalea's tense muscles felt calm again. Her shoulders sunk lower, as did her head. She shut her eyes and embraced her father. "Alright…thanks dad."

Brutus put a hand behind her head and embraced her back. "That's my girl."

The next visit was by Silene and Hector. For a few moments they just stood there, unsure what to do next. But all in unison they decided their next move, and without even talking. A three-way embrace was shared between the friends.

"Lea, I'm so sorry…" Silene was delaying her tears and emotions, but it was very well done. _She's always been good at that._ "I-I just didn't want to see you-"

"I know, Silene. It's alright. You were trying to help. But I wouldn't have felt any better if I let you take my place. Don't you dare feel bad about it, or I _will_ come back, only to haunt you."

"It's better than you not coming back at all." Hector stepped back, so the girls could share a moment. They had always been closer to each other. "Oh, I wish I never met you. It wouldn't be so hard."

"But if I'd never met you, Silene, nothing would calm me in the arena. I'd have no peaceful memories when I died." She knew her friend didn't like the fact that her best friend for who knew how long had a large chance of dying. But she was still great at covering up her emotions. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Lea. I don't deserve such friends like you."

In the midst of her eye, she recalled the time she had first met Silene, when they were much younger. Silene was often teased and tormented. She recalled it as though it were yesterday.

_On the side of the school was where everyone walked by to leave. Sometimes the kids drew on the walls, carved their initials and whatnot. But no one sat by the wall. No one, except a small girl. She was strictly told to wait at the school until her mother came for her. She was always huddled up in a worn, gray longcoat, that went almost to her ankles and went a little past her wrists. She sniffled a lot, especially in the wintertime and her hands trembled along. This girl's name was Silene Venetra. _

_A young Laelia walked by, with her small clique and snickered at the girl. "What, you waiting for your mommy to come get you?"_

_ "Yes." Silene replied simply. _

_ "'You too scared or something?"_

_ "It was an order."_

_ "Sure, let's go with that." The girls behind her tried to stifle their giggles. "What, you afraid the big bad bear's gonna get you? I hear he likes small scared girls the best to eat."_

_ Silene's frightened tremor blended in with her constant shivering anyway, but Laelia could still see it in her eyes. _

_ "Shut up, Lielia." A girl with messy brown hair was walking towards them. _

_ "It's _Laelia_." Her nose scrunched up. _

_ "Whatever." The girl shrugged, like it wasn't anything of importance. "But you have no business in teasing her. If her mom said she has to wait here, it's nothing more than that." _

_ "And who's gonna stop me? You?"_

_ "Mm-hm." The girl nodded curtly. Silene was scared, of both Laelia and this girl, but she remained quiet. She saw her take something from the inside of her shirt and show it to the girls. "This necklace is cursed, remember?"_

_ "Only if you _touch_ it you said." Laelia put her hands on her hips._

_ "I've also got this," she produced a long knife from her boot. "It was my brother's. Now it's mine." She made it erect. "And it's never missed once, when it's thrown." She shrugged calmly again as she pointed it at the now trembling crowd. "And we both know I'm no 'fraidy."_

_ "Y-y-you'd get in big trouble, with my dad especially!"_

_ She shrugged again. 'She's so calm about all this.' Silene thought. _

_ "I don't care if I get in trouble. At least I know I'm a clean soul who was merely helping a poor innocent girl. And you can live with the satisfaction that I got in trouble, but you'll always be the slimy, annoying banshee you are." _

_ Laelia's face flushed red with anger. She didn't do anymore to torment Silene. She swore at the girl and stormed off, her friends not far behind her. _

_ The girl hid the knife back in her boot and turned knelt down to the other girl. "You okay?" Only now did Silene realize that they were in the same class, they were the same age. 'She's pretty brave.' Silene didn't meet the girl's gaze and nodded. "Thanks." She mumbled into the collar of her coat. _

_ "You know, you don't have to let her torment you like that." She said, starting to take off her gloves at the sight of her trembling. She held out her hand to offer her gloves. Silene slowly, but gratefully took them. "What I can do?" Silene sighed, slipping the gloves onto her hands. They fit perfectly. "She's more popular than me. She's got back up. I'm alone mostly, and I'm not the same color as her." She said, referring to her tan skin. There wasn't any other like her in her class. _

_ "You don't have to be." The girl replied. "I can help you." She offered. "We can have each other's backs. We can be alone together." She grinned. _

_ Silene smiled, raising her gaze. 'This girl has eyes like fire.' She thought, as she looked into two pools of flame orange. "I'm Silene." She murmured softly. "Silene Venetra." _

_ The girl grinned warmly and held out a hand. Silene took it. "I'm Azalea, Azalea Fellin. You can call me Lea though." _

_ The smile on Silene's face prospered wider on her face. She had made a bond with a strong ally. She had gained a best friend for life. Or so she had hoped._

"And I wish I could stay longer…my mother forbid me from staying long. I suppose she did that for my own sake but…" Silene took as tight a grip on her as she possibly could before she could fracture her spine.

"Me too…" Azalea sighed, trying all she could to savor the moment. "Me too." She looked in Hector's direction, only to receive a silent, but meaningful nod. Just as they were about to leave the room, Azalea called Hector back in. "Hector!"

Hector's head spun around. "I'll see you later, Silene." Then he shut the door behind him, once again in the presence of his friend. "I'm sorry I didn't speak much. I knew it was a moment for you and Silene."

"It doesn't matter."Azalea brushed off her shoulder and turned around. "Hector, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure. Like what?"

She swallowed down her heart that was caught in her throat for a moment. "When I die-"

"_If_ you die." Hector attempted to correct, a worried gleam in his eye.

She swallowed again. "No, Hector. _When_ I die, please tell Silene how you feel about her. Please, be there for her. She seems strong now, but I know I wouldn't be able to handle that well either if I was watching her die. Don't keep that inside of you."

Hector pressed his lips together and looked down at his feet. Reluctantly, he nodded. What happened to when they were young? When they just met? When they could roam freely and happily, the three of them?

Both she and Hector could recall those times.

_Races were an all-time favorite of ten year olds in District Nine. Her heart pounded at the starting line. Her eyes were raised, anxiously awaiting the flag to drop. She knew everyone was watching her. It was only the kids in her class, but it felt like the entire Capitol. At the sidelines, she could hear Silene cheering and chanting her name, and some had joined in her lead. At her side was a boy with sandy cropped hair. Derek. Derek Rhymel. He was in starting position too. She could see him biting his tongue. Sors was about to drop the white handkerchief, with a smirk on his face, when Azalea caught something at the corner of her eye. A boy, certainly their age, was sitting alone, at some sort of game, but watching what all the commotion was about. _

_ To her misfortune, Sors dropped the flag when she was looking away. Derek already had a ten meter head start. But it didn't take her long to catch up. The horde of spectators followed, cheering on both Azalea and Derek. It didn't matter though, the cheers all blended into one for Azalea. The only thing that mattered was beating Derek. But she was curious to if the boy was following or not. _

_ The race wasn't particularly long, only a mile to the large dead beech at the very edge of the school grounds. It was in sight now, and they both gave it their last efforts. Everything went mute in her ears and the tree was the only thing in her sight. Until the call came._

"_Derek wins!"_

"_You cheapskate, it was a tie!" She heard Silene's voice clearly over the protests of the crowd. _

"_Derek so won, you didn't see Azalea trip him at the half-mile?"_

"_It was a _tie_, Sors. Just leave it be. If they want to rematch they will."_

_Sors rolled his eyes. "Fine." He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Today's race is a tie. Rematch tomorrow, same time folks! It'll be even more intense!" Several cheers and whoops made it official. _

_Azalea wiped her hand across her brow and looked at Derek. He was just as tired as she was. She held a hand. "Good race." She panted. He narrowed his eyes and walked right by her. 'He would have been much happier with Sors' decision. Of course.' She thought. _

_She felt someone embrace her from behind. "Great race, Lea. You went easy on him." Silene laughed. "I could tell."_

"_What really happened? Who won?" Azalea started to walk back to the front fields of the school. _

"_Just like I said, it was a tie. Don't listen to Sors, he's got the worst ref eye this world has ever seen." Silene walked by her side. They laughed and talked the rest of the way. _

_ Only when they got back did Azalea realize the boy hadn't followed. She could see Sors and his crowd facing him. "No one wants to play your stupid games, Hector. Why didn't you watch the race?!"_

_ "Because I didn't want to, Sors." _

_ He rolled his eyes. "It was so close! Derek so won. That stupid Silene-bitch had to call it a tie. She favors Azalea."_

_ "Like you favor Derek."_

_ "What's up with you today, Hector? You're not usually like this."_

_ "Wrong." He rose to his feet and looked Sors straight in the eye. He was barefoot, Azalea realized. "I've always been like this. Just around you I've acted different because I thought I could be cool. Now I see the truth. You're all just a bunch of filthy stupid bastards. And I'd rather be smart and uncool."_

_ "Just listen to yourself!" Sors was getting frustrated. "Fine! You be like that." Sors pointed his index finger at him. "But you'll never live peacefully, I can promise you. We'll always be at your back, always be at your shadow. We'll make your life a living hell. Remember that!" Sors kicked some dirt over the game he was playing and then laughed. He led his crowd into the bordering woods and disappeared, howling like wolves. _

_ The boy called Hector sighed and started to brush the dirt away. He was muttering something that she couldn't hear. "Poor kid. Sors is such a…" She stopped when she realized she was talking to air. Silene, who was just beside her, was making her way towards the poor boy. _

_ Azalea made the decision Silene had once she saw Silene kneel down. "You need help?" her friend asked._

_ "No." the boy looked away, gathering up some games pieces that had rolled a few feet away. _

_ "You sure?" she began to pick up some of the pieces near her. _

_ "I'm sure." He said neutrally. _

_ Silene cradled some of them in her palm, then closed her fingers around them. "You know, I'll play the game. I'd like to learn." _

_ Azalea had never seen a more competitive play in her entire life. Even the race that happened about an hour ago now, seemed like nothing in comparison. She sat cross-legged, watching the game go on. It was very complex, and required a lot of logic. It was like a game of battle, only you had more than one player. Silene made the final move, putting what seemed like a ruler and a knight in a corner. She smiled and then exhaled sharply. "Good game."_

_ Hector smirked, even though he was defeated. "Yup." He exhaled sharply too. "You're pretty smart."_

_ "Thanks." Silene grinned. "You're not so bad, yourself."_

_ He held out his hand. "I'm Hector."_

_ "Silene." She offered her hand back with another smile. "And this is my friend, Lea." _

_ "Oh you're the one you raced against Derek." He looked towards her. "You probably won, knowing Sors." He smirked. "Nice you meet you both." His gaze fluttered back to Silene. 'Another friend gained, is another friend earned.' She recalled her father saying. 'Dad, isn't that with pennies?' _

_ 'It works both ways.' _

_ A nice warm summer afternoon three years later, Azalea and Hector were meandering through the trees and Silene was at home, sleeping and sick. _

_ "It's too bad Silene couldn't be here." Azalea jumped over a log and lined her back up against a tree._

_ Hector rolled to the side and peered from behind another tree. "Definitely. We could have had a three-way capture the flag."_

_ Azalea laughed. Hector thought everything in life was like a game. Then again, it was, logically. He had explained that to her last year. 'Everything in games can be traced back to a problem or skill you gain in life, you see. It's how they were made, too.' _

_ 'Speaking of games,' she thought. "What'd you think of the reaping?"_

_ "I was deathly scared." He stated, examining a bush that reached up to his knees. He took a leaf carefully between his index and his thumb. _

_ "About what? You only had your name in twice."_

_ "Not me," he looked away, pretending to still be focused on the plant. _

_ "You don't have any siblings." Azalea reached up for a branch and tried to pull herself up. _

_ "I know." He placed the leaf on the ground and looked in the opposite direction. "Lea, how well do you keep secrets?"_

_ Azalea landed with a thud on her feet. "You know me, Hec, I'm pretty quiet outside of our three-some."_

_ "I mean, this has to be between us. You can't even tell Silene."_

_ Azalea straightened and remained silent. 'Keeping secrets from my best friend? That's not right… not at all. But Hector's my friend too… I don't want to lose out bond either…' "Alright." She swooped into the tree right above him and swung upside-down. Her hair fell messily as she looked at her friend. "I won't tell."_

_ Hector sighed, turning away again and leaning against the bush. "I wasn't afraid for myself yesterday. I… I was afraid for Silene."_

_ Azalea kept mostly quiet, feeling he wasn't done talking. "Yeah…"_

_ "I…" He went quiet._

_ "You… what?"_

_ "I... I love her."_

_ It came clear why she couldn't tell Silene now. "I was afraid for you too, you know. But it's just…"_

_ "I understand, Hec." She let her legs go and landed on her feet again. She looked down. "When… when did you realize it?"_

_ "Right after we all met." He rubbed the back of his head. "She's… different from the rest of the girls, you know? She's smart… and not selfish… open… I mean… I'm not saying you're not different, smart, selfish or open either, but…"_

_ "I'd rather have us just friends anyway, Hec." She grinned. "You don't need to feel like I'm taking this as a bad thing."_

_ Hector sighed. "Alright. Hey, Lea?"_

_ "Yeah?" she reached for an apple._

_ He smirked, watching her from his sitting level. "Thanks." _

_ She smiled warmly back at him. 'Things are going to stay the same as they always have been.' She thought. "No problem, Hec. No problem."_

_ She had kept that secret to this day. She sometimes teased him about it when they hung out near the log pile at her house when Silene was busy doing something else, but she had kept it a secret, nevertheless. _

By three she was extremely bored. She had taken her father's advice of trying to stay calm, and not taking in any stress. She twisted her head to see the scenery. Behind her was a portrait of the former mayor, who had thick gray hair, combed back and dull gray eyes to match. He hadn't been a bad man, just low and quiet. He wasn't very social, she could recall, even though she was only five the last time she saw him. She drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. Worn blue velvet, and wooden legs were beginning to crack. _I need to stretch my legs._ Just as she rose to her feet though, the doorknob turned abruptly and the door swung open.

A rude entrance made by no other than… _Sors._ She thought gravely. She scowled at him. "What do you want, Sors?"

"I lost a bet, remember?" he smirked, but his eyes were a raging fire as he handed over a small sack that seemed to be made of old bed sheets. After eying him suspiciously, she looked to make sure everything she bargained for was there. She could say she was surprised it all was, but actually a bit disappointed. At least it would have given some excitement to her day. "Oh yeah, good luck." He said sarcastically. "I've already visited Derek. He's got some plans in mind too." As he began to close the door, he talked again. "He's going to whoop your ass, Fellin."

She growled as the door clicked. _He'll be glad when I'm gone. At least Hector's there for Silene._

Yet another knock came soon after. Even though she was longing for visitors before, she was dreading it now. Who else could visit her that she'd enjoy the company? She stood a little shocked when she saw Caden's face peering in. "Sorry to bother you, Azalea." He smiled. _Stupid smile's what got me in the first place. _ "But I believe she's yours?" he ushered in a small figure.

"Minnie!" Azalea was even more shocked. _Why is she here?_ "Yes she is, thanks." She replied in a tone which slightly implied his work was done there. But of course, he just stood in the doorway, looking as comfortable as ever. She decided to ignore him. "What's up Minnie?"

Her joy of a younger sister. She was glad to see her a final time. Her big glass blue eyes stared up at her. "You forgot this…" she unstrapped her old hunting bag that she'd had for a while from her shoulder and offered it to her.

A sympathetic smile broke her face. She knelt down and closed her hand. _What use is it to me anyway now?_ "I want you to have it."

"But… but why, Lea?"

"I'm not going to be able to use it." Then she thought of some of the things Sors had given back to her. Most of that was useless at this point anyway. She raised a finger, to tell her to wait and went to grab the bag off the hearth. She brought it back to Minnie and put it in her other palm. "Take this too." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Caden smiling; not in a smug Sors sort of way, but sort of a sympathetic admiring way. She went back to ignoring his presence.

Minnie opened the sack and looked. Everything was still in it. Tears began to well up in the small girl's eyes. "B-but… you're coming back, Lea. I know you are." She tried to convince herself. Azalea wished it would have worked on her too. "Well, then just keep them safe for me."

The girl bit her lip and nodded. But then she took out Azalea's necklace and pushed it back into her hand. "I couldn't take that."

"Why ever not?" she put it on Minnie's neck. "It suits you."

"But it's yours." She took it off and put it on Azalea. "Besides… you need something to remind you of home… and who you really are when you're out on that bloody minefield."

Azalea wished she could have laughed at that. Something deep in her gut told her it wouldn't have been a good time. The two sisters embraced each other once more, before Minnie waved goodbye and walked past Caden, not to be seen again.

It took a few moments for her to recover and capture her emotions. Then she folded her arms at her chest and glared at Caden. "You come to give me something I forgot too? Or are you just going to stand there all day?"

He raised his hands, as if he were guilty. Then he straightened and stepped in. "It's a lot warmer in here." He muttered. "And I came to wish you good luck."

She raised a brow and leaned slightly of her left leg. "Why exactly? In a matter of days we're going to be fighting to the death. You barely know me." She narrowed her eyes.

"I also came to say I'm sorry." He said, as if she hadn't said anything before.

"For what, that you're going to have to kick my sorry ass too? That makes two."

"What?" he was a little confused.

"Never mind." She turned around.

"I really mean it. I'm sorry. You've got family and people here who care about you. And you have plenty of things you love here too. Some stupid game is about to take that all away."

"You do too you know." The image of Lilac sprung vividly into her mind. "Why don't you just crawl back and feel sorry for yourself?"

"Because I'm not that sort of guy." He shrugged. "And I know I'm not the only one and there have been plenty before me." He began to walk out the door. "Again, sorry. You and your sister have a great bond. Don't see that very often." Then the door clicked behind him. His words echoed in her ears. _Great bond... Don't see that very often… what's he trying to play up? Is it so he can get allies? I won't fall for that same trick twice. _

A final knock came at the door. She wanted to groan. She went to go open it. Standing there was an elderly lady, who looked well over ninety. She wore a very tattered shirt and skirt, if it could be called that. "Azalea Fellin?" her voice croaked with age and time.

She nodded, speechless. Now she recognized her a little. She hadn't seen her herself, but she often heard rumors.

"Good." The hag hobbled in. "My sights aren't as bad as I thought." She settled herself by the flame and back into the chair. Azalea closed the door and trailed behind her, as if she were her granddaughter or something. "I have come to tell you, child, of something I've seen." She closed her eyes, the fire lavishing her with warmth.

"Y-yes, Madame Rill?" _That's her name. Madame Rill, the one who can read destiny._

"Please dear, call me Ellie." She insisted, waving her bony, frail hand. _Ellie Rill. How… unfitting for someone of her seeming ability. _"Now, what I've come for. I've come to tell you that you shall change an awful lot, dear."

Azalea had known that. _Everyone changes._ But she wasn't about to be rude to an elder. "Yes."

"Beyond what you think though," Ellie said, as if she had read her thoughts. "This place will no longer be home to you. When you look into a pool of water, you shall not find your reflection in it, but a monster. A murderous, reckless monster." She produced a pipe from her cloak and began to puff into it. It started smoking without her even putting anything into it. "The meanings of 'friend', 'family' and 'love' will no longer be clear to you, because you will be blinded. Blinded by a great force within you, and outside of your boundaries." She nodded and puffed another cloud of smoke. "Yes… yes that seems right."

The way she put it was getting Azalea on edge now. She had never really liked change. When her bedroom was changed to a different color when she was younger, she didn't like it. When Luke showed her a different, seemingly 'better' technique for hunting, she didn't like it. She didn't like it when she was called as a tribute, that changed everything. But she realized over the years that change happened every day. _Better get used to it._

"The strangest of all this," Ellie spoke again. "Is that it seems… it seems as though you won't even be human anymore. Not fully, anyway. As you can tell I'm old, so maybe I'm just getting a setback here, but still. It bothers me."

And it bothered Azalea too, immensely. And it bothered her all up until the train came to pick her and the other three up, as well through the night. _Yes, Madame Ellie Rill, it bothers me too, down to the darkest and coldest pit of my heart._


	6. A Fight's Worth

"Soon, we shall all be arriving in the lavish Capitol, later today. And there, and then, is when we make that imprint onto every heart, every soul, every mind." The escort of District 9 clapped his hands together and stood a little straighter after finishing the sentence of the lecture. "We need to make sure you are highly favored by the spectators, nothing less."

The four tributes, Derek, Laelia, Caden and Azalea were all sitting in separate cushioned chairs in a smaller compartment of the train and watching him; not intently, but still in good focus. Azalea didn't like this one bit, all the pressure being built up upon her. But she couldn't afford to look weak now. She slowly raised a hand.

The escort had dirty blonde hair in a buzz cut, a scar running from his forehead, down past his left eye and to his cheek, tanned skin, muscular arms and large hands. His eyes were like a fox's though, with a gray piercing nature. His name was Commodus Werr. He grinned widely at her. "Yes, Ms. Fellin?"

"Um, sorry to interrupt you, but how long exactly has it been since a District 9 has even gotten close to the final three?" she asked, not trying to bring anyone down, she just didn't think it was going to be as easy to win everyone's hearts over as he made it sound. The room fell into a deathly silence.

Derek was leaning back casually in his chair. He glared at her. "Do you doubt our district's ability?"

"No," Azalea replied neutrally. "Not at all actually. I'm just pointing out that there's been a cyclic pattern of the lower middle districts not being favored. I mean what would make that change so suddenly?"

Commodus listened with his fingers at his chin and when they had finished, he smirked like there was something more going on in his mind. "Don't be so harsh on her Mr. Rhymel, I much like her thinking. She's just reminding us that this isn't going to be as easy as it seems, winning the hearts of the Capitol over." He took a few paces to the right, and then to the left, pondering the thought.

"And I will answer your question, Ms. Fellin. A District 9 won fifteen years ago. The last time a District 9 made to the final three was about twelve years ago, and they even made it to the final two, although they didn't win. We got close about six years ago, making it to the final four."

Azalea looked down, embarrassed that everyone in the room was staring at her now. She nodded in understanding. "And I do like your reasoning." Commodus stated. "Do you have any suggestions, Ms. Fellin?"

Silence erupted again. After much hesitation, she shook her head, not meeting the gaze. _What does it matter anyway? We're all doomed to die, and the people of the Capitol just watch it like not a thing is morally wrong. I'd rather have them hate me._

He clasped his hands together again and moved about the room again. "So we've got to be as dazzling as possible, and not anger the Capitol in any way, shape or form. We need to tug at their heartstrings like puppeteers and make them see how brilliant District 9 truly is."

A close gaze averted between the four of them when he turned to face them. "Emotion is key, as is drama." He raised a fist. "Make this your next hunt, the hearts of the Capitol. Every one of you is very creative, when it comes to plotting out strategies, and I expect you to use that skill throughout this entire experience. But make sure you put limits out as well; we want to make this as realistic as possible. Should you need to put a lie out there, make it small, something you can easily alter to the truth and prove correct." He offered intent glances to each one of them again.

"Remember… at the least three of you shall die." Everyone's attention averted to the escort again. Mutually thinking, they didn't like the thought. "But we're not here to choose that now. All of you are to go to your rooms and plan out a strategy by tomorrow. You do not have to come to me, if you do not wish to, but I still want it done." Another second of silence and he ushered the tributes out of the room.

Derek and Caden headed out to get some food, Laelia wanted to go back to her bedroom, which she shared with Azalea reluctantly. Only a moment later, Azalea found herself in complete isolation. The hallway was completely empty. She had a thrashing headache from thinking while Commodus was speaking. And with the other three going to get food and to their bedroom she was out of options. It didn't take her long however to decide what she was going to do.

_Might as well go to my room; Laelia may be an annoying bitch, but it's better than hanging out with two immature guys._ She shook her head and rubbed her fingers against her temples as she walked all the way back to the bedroom that the two girls shared. She opened the door to a cloud of steam that whipped into her face and swirled around the space; a voice rung out through the room too. She shielded her eyes as she closed the door. _Laelia's in the shower. Of course._

"Don't disturb me!" a voice called from the bathroom, the singing abruptly stopping. Azalea dropped down onto her creaking bed and closed her eyes. "No worries." She couldn't keep herself awake any longer, and she let the darkness take her.

She awoke to some humming nearby and wearily opened one eye. Laelia was doodling something on some paper on her bed. Her hair was wrapped up in a towel. _Must have not slept that long…_

"Oh, you're awake." Laelia said, only seeming half interested. Azalea propped herself up against the backboard. "Obviously."

Laelia didn't pay her any attention, or to anything she said. "Why aren't we just at the Capitol already?" there was a slight whine in her voice. "I'll get a room to myself." She glanced quickly at Azalea. "No offense, Lea."

"None taken." Azalea didn't really care what Laelia said at this point either. _The feeling is mutual._

"What do you think the boys are doing?" she asked, making some flimsy movements of her hands. "Probably not strategizing at all, huh? They're so going to lose."

"You aren't strategizing either." Azalea stated.

"How do you know?" she glared at her.

"How is drawing whimsically strategizing?"

"You aren't either." Laelia retorted. "You're just sitting there."

"I could be thinking at the same time." She broke the gaze.

Laelia huffed and turned back to her drawing. She began to rave on about something, but Azalea zoned out to think of her strategy.

_I really just want to be myself for the Capitol, I could care less whether they liked me or not. I should think of my strategy for the actual games, as dad said. If I want to stay alive, I've got to kill someone eventually. _She stole a quick glance at Laelia. _I honestly wouldn't mind killing her. But I shouldn't just kill for my own pleasure that makes me a sick murderer. Dad also said I should gain some allies. Even though I wouldn't be able to keep them for long, they would help me. Maybe my killing somebody will be to save another. That would be the only reason and way I'd kill, for certain. _

_ But who can I trust as an ally? I'm certain no one wants me here. I'm the geek who has the superpower of a wide vocabulary. Derek and Caden will probably join up, Laelia, as much as I hate to admit it, would make a pretty good ally. She's flexible, she's quick and she's got good reflexes. They'll just look at me and laugh if I suggest such a thing, even if they are desperate to survive. _ She thought glumly now. _Well… you do think better with negative emotion anyway…_

Now fading in and out of semi-consciousness she heard Laelia say something about Luke being good-looking. She went back to her personal thoughts.

_Careers probably won't be too accepting either, but if I should try, it would be District 4. I need someone with brains, but also some athletic ability. Or maybe one of each. District 6 are the scientists, and District 5 is mathematics, District 3 wouldn't be so bad in that department. The ones from District 7 are strong, having to be major in lumber production, and I know District 11 has pretty strong-hearted tributes, and they are agriculture. District 10 is livestock, and they have a pretty deep sense with nature. I'd say 6 and 11 would be my best shot for now. The careers will definitely stick together throughout this, they always do. _

Her train of thought was immediately interrupted by a knock on the door. "I apologize for bothering you girls." The door opened a crack, revealing the face of Commodus. "But we're arriving at the Capitol."

In a quick, light-hearted gesture Laelia cast her sketchpad aside and ran out the door. "Really? Great!" She disappeared around the corner to go see if such information was true. Azalea didn't move a muscle. As great as he made it sound, thinking that there were people anxiously awaiting their deaths didn't satisfy her.

Commodus entered the room, leaving the door open. "'You, going to take a look? The boys are almost ready, and Ms. Myrica seems thrilled." A questioning smile appeared on his face. "You don't seem too excited."

"Why should I get excited about a death-trap?" Azalea muttered glumly with her head rested on her knees. To her surprise the escort laughed. "Oh, you're not alone, sweetheart." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Some of the other tributes are thinking exactly what you are, as much as you think otherwise. No one goes into the Games out of full will you know."

"The Careers." Azalea pointed out.

"They're not fully willing either. Their arrogance just covers that up, so they just don't think about it as much." he sympathized.

"Lucky them." She narrowed her eyes now. But she couldn't help thinking that this escort was on her side, and he wasn't going to simply ignore her like the rest of the tributes did and would.

He laughed again. "You could do the same thing you know."

"Be arrogant? Yes, that makes me feel good about myself."

"I mean that you could find something that occupies your mind and covers up that thought." He smirked. "It's not terribly difficult once you find it."

She tried to think, but a happy thought didn't come into her head. _Maybe it doesn't have to be a happy thought… just determined._ Now she realized something, she hadn't thought of any goals. Another thought came that brought a great burden on her heart. _What am I fighting for?_ Fighting for her own life, she reasoned, would certainly not be enough, and would make her lean slightly towards arrogance, something she directly wanted to avoid. _Do I want to prove my strength to the Capitol?_ She doubted that theory completely.

Six vivid pictures came in her mind to tell her the correct answer; the six faces of Hector, Silene, her father, her mother, Luke and Minnie. _I'm fighting for those I care about most. And I'm fighting for those who care for me. _

Seeing her lightening expression as she thought, Commodus smirked, knowing that what he had said had an impact. The tribute glanced upwards at him and smirked back. "Oh, by the way, the strategizing isn't really going on."

The escort only smirked more. "What about you, of all the tributes?" Deep down she was flattered that Commodus considered her the smartest of the group, but she didn't want to think about that; not at the moment.

She shrugged. "I'm getting there. But I know for a fact, that the other three are just probably enjoying the view right now. They've always wanted to see the Capitol."

Commodus paced around the room to Laelia's bed. "It's true they're thrilled that they're at the Capitol." His fingers picked up Laelia's sketchpad and smirked again. "But I don't think you're giving them enough credit on the strategizing part."

He turned the sketchpad to face Azalea. Azalea's eyebrows rose in surprise. On the paper that Laelia was supposedly doodling on was a bunch of arrows and symbols, with numbers and a list in small print over on the side. Her entire way of thinking seemed to flip upside-down now. She noted that she couldn't only think of her strategy, she had to think like the others did, and she had to know how they felt about all of this. _I need to understand._ _And I thought Laelia was completely stupid…_

"Commodus, I need to talk to-" a voice from the door cut off as someone appeared in the doorway. The face and torso of Lupus Aureu, her trainer, appeared. He was in his thirties, had mousy brown hair and a lanky physique. The former victor's eyes were a brilliant forest green. It made her feel right back at home looking into them. He offered a charming smile to Azalea when he realized her presence. "Hello there, Azalea. You ready to meet the Capitol?" he smirked with the sarcasm in his voice.

"She's talking strategy, Lupe, don't disturb her." Commodus rose to his feet and walked over to him, smiling.

"Oh, my apologies." There was more sarcasm from him, but it was kind sarcasm. She thought she saw the trainer wink at her. "I was just wondering where the rest of the tributes are, they need to be ready."

"They should be in the next car over, enjoying the view." Commodus looked out and down the hallway. "Ms. Fellin here isn't a huge fan."

"You ain't alone, luv." Lupe motioned with his hands for her to get up and come over. Azalea knew better than to resist her trainer. "That's what I told her!" Commodus said, as he disappeared into the neighboring car.

Azalea stepped out of the room with Lupe a pace ahead of her, smirking. "I know how you feel. I detested the Capitol more than hell when I arrived here. I still loathe the Capitol."

"Then why do you train us? You job is a Capitol's wish."

"Aye, true. But what I love even more is the result," His footsteps padded rhythmically on the floor. "when the tributes of District 9 win. It proves that we're much stronger than the Capitol thinks us to be. Then they're all fumbled and confused." He laughed inwardly at that. He was going to opposite direction that Commodus had taken and halted before a window down at the other end of the hall. "And every time I look out at what seems to be the greatness of the Capitol," he pulled back a curtain to reveal it. Azalea was stunned, but she didn't outwardly express it.

"It's really all a fluke. They may be the highest ranked, but they're certainly the weakest of them all. And we're the strongest because we actually have to fight to survive." He smirked at her again. "When we do fight, we have something to fight for. We have something _worth_ fighting for." He grinned widely back at the sight. "Something they will never have, or understand."

Azalea gazed upon her trainer for a long while, knowing exactly what he meant. They did all have something worth fighting for. And miraculously it _was_ something the Capitol didn't own and didn't truly understand.

_We are fighting for love. We fight because of our love. We fight for what is morally right. The Capitol's slippery hands will never get a good hold on that. _


	7. Experiments

(This is kinda short...)

"Have they entered the Capitol yet?" A voice demanded. "Has he returned?! Answer me, Gordian!"

One couldn't blame the Gamemaker for not answering. Awkwardly, he stood in a dark corner of the president's den, his eyes yearning to jerk back and forth to make sure there were no hidden eyes. He was very scared of the President indeed, but he had no intention of showing it.

"Yes sir, he has returned, just this evening." Gordian stated, remembering the train pulling almost silently into the area, large and forest-colored.

"Well then what are you doing just standing there, go find him!" the president shouted.

Gordian made sure to bow low before striding out of the room.

His fingers began to massage his temples and he closed his eyes in thought. _Good, I won't have to wait any longer. _

The only light in the room spilled onto the floor from the small window, high above in the ceiling. It didn't provide much light at all really, especially at night.

But that was how the president preferred it.

He believed it reflected his character; he didn't want any false assumptions made. He was a threatening, cold-hearted man, and he wanted it to be like that.

Therefore no one defied him, exactly how he wanted it. Everyone in the Capitol and every District had seen or faced his wrath at one point or another. His hands folded behind him as he stood up and sulked to the heart of his office. The many thoughts of the upcoming games overwhelmed him greatly, especially since this was a third year.

One thought in particular most concerned him. The pair of ice-like eyes shot a gaze upon a little golden trinket that lay upon his glass bookshelf about ten paces northwest. Keeping his eyes icy, his countenance neutral and his posture erect, he walked the short distance.

_This must work, _he thought as his fingers wrapped around the thing. He lowered it to chest level and then opened up his palm. _This has to be the best trial yet. _

Etched and imprinted onto the middle figure was a beautifully crafted letter, with its stems extended to every edge. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen; his key to ultimate power. But the door it went to hadn't been built yet. His heart raced thinking of how much longer he had to wait.

Then there was a rapping at the door's shoulder, and the click of a doorknob already being handled. In a swift, graceful gesture, the golden trinket was cast back up to the top of the bookcase and he swiveled on the balls of his feet. He even had the time to step back to the center of the room.

"Good evening, General."

"Good evening indeed, President Dykes." The man at the door stood a little higher and leaner than the leader did, but he had no interest in threatening him in any way. His face was covered by a shadow and the hood of a jacket. Underneath, it hid a grave smile.

"Your suspicions were correct then, I assume?" President Dykes gestured with his hand for the general to step forth and he took a seat in the chair behind the desk once more. "You taken up on the offer to visit and all."

He did not take off the coat and stepped right to the edge of the small light. "Yes," he spoke softly as he handed a manila envelope over to the higher official. "The second has been chosen. And looking around tonight, I say I may have my eyes on the third."

"Only three, then?" the President was slightly disappointed, but no matter. It would make the final moments even better.

"Aye; you know it better than I, Mr. Dykes, that we cannot waste the final one just yet. We must assure that one of these three will win before we can make any plans."

The president opened the envelope carefully and peered at the documents inside. He removed them to get a better look. He brought it a little closer to his face. "Have you studied this one thoroughly, General? We cannot just send in any of them, you know; regardless of how good-looking they are."

"I wouldn't choose otherwise, sir." A smug smirk appeared on his face, he was very sure about this. _We shall please those 'Rits to the highest extent. _

"Which one did you have an eye on as a third again?" President Dykes flipped the page over to the second paper.

"I hadn't told you." The general nodded curtly his apologies. "A Career, sir; has quite some potential, really, even though he hasn't trained his entire life. I'll look into that more."

"Yes, you do that…" his focus was still directed to the files of this tribute though. _5'4, 120 lbs, not bad for an average, but does this one possess any skill? _The president didn't hesitate to ask. "Does this one possess any initial skill, highly ranked, so to speak?"

The general pulled the top of the paper back with his index finger. "This one you mean, sir? Yes; a high level of mental capacity, and stubbornness, if you ask me." He chuckled darkly after saying so.

The president frowned. "Something that can be tolerated and controlled, nonetheless?"

The general still smirked. "Don't go off worrying about it, sir. We haven't had any trouble before this point, what makes you think any ruckus is going to start now?"

His eyes looked upon the general's face, with a gaze that was still unsure of his claim. "I love your optimistic logic, General. But don't become to full of yourself now." He rose to his feet, replacing the papers in the envelope. "It is a fact that you do think better under negative conditions. We cannot out-rule the possibility of a disturbance to this experiment just yet, despite how close we are to accomplishing our goal."

In return, the general spread his arms wide and turned his back to the president as he walked to the center of the room. He halted at the dead center of the rug. The rug was actually shaped like Panem, with accurate measurements of the Capitol and all the Districts, even District 13, which the president preceding him had defeated many years before. "Of course, your honor." His head lowered. "But don't you think Ritalion wants us to think positively about this? It wouldn't please them an inch if we doubted this."

Ritalion; the word haunted at the back of the President's mind, though he never showed it or implied it. Every time it was brought up, a pair of even colder eyes, almost white and a permanent grimace appeared before his eyes. This name was only known among the President and his closest loyalties, which weren't many. "No, they wouldn't. More specifically, _he_ wouldn't be pleased." He stated gravely.

"Which is why my thinking dominates in this situation." He laughed. When he turned back, his smile had disappeared. "Look three will be enough, and I can assure you, one of them shall win this. I couldn't be surer."

"We'll see; wait until they begin training. We shall make our final decisions then. We shall have plenty of time."

It was too late by the time the President realized what the General was doing. His hand was already reaching up to the top of the shelf. President Dyke's face had become stern and furious. "General!" he hissed.

Between two fingers, the trinket was carefully held, like precious, fragile glass. He laughed as he held it up. "So this is where you've been keeping it?" He couldn't help the humor in his glance. "I must say, sir, with all due respect," He opened the bookcase and took out an average looking book with a faded blue cover and dusty pages. When he opened it up to a certain page, a small holding space was revealed. He put the golden trinket in the space and replaced the book. "It deserves a much better place of hiding."

Less angry, but still infuriated, he sat down again. "How much longer do you intend to say, General?"

"I cannot stay too much longer." He admitted. "I must get back to my work, you know."

"Then why don't you go off and do such? I need some time to think."

The general spoke no more. With a curt nod and a brief salute, he quickly vanished behind the door.

A great sigh escaped his chest. "Ritalion." He murmured almost silently. A fist clenched over the manila file that still lay upon his desk. "I shall not fail. No… I _cannot_ fail. My existence and position depend solely upon it."

His eyes found an invisible victim of the door, his eyes colder and icier than he had ever made them before. _This experiment shall prove fatal, indeed. Not to me, but to the members of Panem. I shall not fail. I shall not fail. Two things always prevail over all; superior and justice. And I am both._


	8. Odd Interests and Stylists

(Wow, I haven't updated in a while!! I'll try to be more frequent, eh?)

The absolute darkness had nothing to do with her nightmares that night. Surprisingly, neither did the Hunger Games haunt her mind. Images of gigantic fires swallowing buildings, nature and water alike spun through her brain. Helpless souls and bodies on the streets fell into a black ash. Their pitiful screams and moans thrashed at her ears. The dream ended with an image of a large bell, chiming a harbinger of a death toll.

She didn't shoot up erect, resisting the urge because she didn't feel quite as solely as she hoped to be. Her eyes wandered around the room, lit dimly with an early dawn. The sun hadn't yet overcome the horizon, but was peering up and into her eyes. She cast her arm above eye-level to block the painful morning light, something she was never a fan of at-

She dared not think of home. _No, not now. Don't present yourself with a weakness. _Her thoughts wandered back to the almost silent tapping coming from her bathroom. It didn't sound like dripping water, more as if things were being placed very quickly. _ Of course, they'd probably not want to wake me up._ She smirked inwardly. _Time to practice my stealth._

As quietly as she could possibly manage, she lifted the bed-sheets off her and left them lying limply at the edge of the mattress. It was much more comfortable than she had ever felt, but in a way, it was even less welcoming than the room she had been placed in. As nice as it was, it seemed to remind her of her upcoming death, as if it were written upon every wall a thousand times. It was a nice shade of forest green, with gold paint lining the border between the floor and wall, twisting and entwining like two pieces of rope.

Her hands touched the floor first, to test its durability. The wood had been furnished to look old to make the District 9s more comfortable; although the wood had only been replaced last year. The smile upon her face prospered. A bare foot descended from the bed onto the floor. The moment her other foot made contact with the wood she lowered into a hunting crouch.

Just as she would do at… she refrained from using that way of thinking again. Like she used to do while hunting a large animal, she stalked over to the bathroom door. Gradually she rose to a full stance and aligned herself to the wall. She slowed her breathing so much it became silent, like she wasn't breathing at all. The sounds were definitely coming from the bathroom, she determined. They continued rhythmically. Her ears could acutely hear the breathing of the person too. It sounded masculine to her.

Slowly, her hand reached for the door. Under her skin, her muscles were relaxed, but ready for the sudden tension she would abruptly put on them in only a moment's time. All at once, her hand bashed against the door, which banged onto the wall from the force, she leaped from hiding and her voice rang out hoarsely into the bathroom. "Aha!"

The figure, whose back was faced towards her, dropped what he had in his hands and arms. Numerous bottles of what were most likely hair products and soaps clattered onto the porcelain tile floor. Azalea's hand rushed to her mouth to cover up the rising embarrassment she was experiencing.

Then the figure turned to her. His skin was moderately tan. His eyes looked like rich chocolate, with some golden tints reaching from his now enlarged pupils. His hair was down, jet black, and it had golden streaks at the ends, the same color as the tints in his eyes. He looked very serious, and even furious in a way.

Azalea knew she was up to her neck in trouble by now. She thought it would have been Lupe, or one of the boys, messing through the drawers, looking for something they would never find. With her face red, she dropped to the floor and began to pick up some of the bottles. "I'm so sorry!" was all she managed to blurt out as her fingers scrambled for the fallen items.

Soon enough, the guy lowered down too, joining her picking up the bottles. More surprise overcame her when he laughed, not seeming angry in the slightest. "It's alright." He stood up again, some of the bottles cradled again in the crook of his arm. "It's an excellent stealth technique. I never saw you coming."

"I swear, I thought you were Lupe, or Derek, or Caden or someone like that!" she said, still not feeling redeemed of her previous actions.

He returned to his job of placing the bottles in the correct places. "Well technically, I am someone like that. So it wasn't for the wrong reason."

She swallowed down some of the embarrassment and started to help him out. "What do you mean by that? I don't think the cleaning boy has much to do with me being a tribute."

Hearing his laugh again, Azalea knew she messed up. "I'm not a cleaning boy, for one." His head turned. "I'm a stylist. My name's Felix Jenkins." He said smoothly, returning his focus to the remaining bottles of soap.

Flushing an even deeper red, she handed what she had left to him and dropped a few again in the process. "A stylist for District 9?"

"M-hm." He smiled, going to pick those up and finishing off by closing the cabinet. "You're the last one I had to organize these bottles for though. I'm assigned to one of you, a girl actually." Felix's eyes shot to her. "Are you Azalea?"

Wanting to prove herself better than her first impression, she straightened a little. "That would be me; Azalea Fellin, unwilling District 9 Tribute of the 99th Hunger Games, at your service." She sarcastically saluted. Now she realized she was still in her orange nightgown, which was the least dressy thing she could find for night-wear. It looked like orange cream.

Felix laughed again. She found his laugh welcoming, unlike the room and the morning light. "Nice to meet you then, Azalea. I only started this about a year or two ago, so forgive me if I mess up." He pointed a finger out the door. "You think it would be better outside?"

She nodded. "Yeah, and don't worry about messing up…" she rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. "I've got that covered for you."

"Don't say that." Felix said encouragingly. He opened his mouth to say something else, but she didn't want a sympathy rant.

"So have you met the other District 9s?" she interrupted as casually as she could, while sitting down onto her bed. Felix opened the curtains a little wider, to her misfortune, but the conversation kept the thought of her becoming blind out of her head.

"Yes. The other girl wasn't up," Felix asserted.

"Laelia." Azalea pointed out.

"Yes, that must be her. But the two boys were up. One of them left a few minutes after I went in there. I talked to the tall… well… I'll say this; they're both pretty damned tall. I talked to the shorter of the two, with the tan-dirty blonde hair. Derek, was it?"

"Yes, that would be Derek. The other one is Caden."

Felix nodded and leaned against the window sill, realizing the squinting of her eyes with the light. "Derek seems lean, tough, good competitor." Azalea frowned a little inwardly at that. Then the stylist exhaled sharply and smirked. "But from what I saw, you'd be more of the problem for those Careers."

She didn't know whether that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult. "Seriously?" She didn't really think she was that good. If anything she wasn't better than… _No… no thinking like that. _Sors quote of farewell sung like a high-pitched killdeer call. _He's going to whoop your ass, Fellin._ "Or are you just saying that because you're _my _stylist?"

"Definitely. And, no it's not just because I'm your stylist. I thought the same thing before I knew such." Felix folded his arms and walked towards her in long strides until he was only inches away from her. "Can you stand up for me, by the way?"

Clueless, but obedient, she stood up and held her arms out at her sides. Then she took a few steps forwards as he stepped back. "Like this, right?"

He began to circle her and watch her intently. "Perfect." he said, meditatively. After a cycle of about four times, he stood behind her and held up her arms a little. She found it a little awkward, but she still didn't protest. Then his straightened one arm horizontally, then the other.

"If I'm not being too brash, may I ask what exactly you are doing?" Azalea's eyes followed him as he rounded back in front of her. She lowered her arms.

"Not brash; it's expected." he said. "Measuring; and if that doesn't satisfy your curiosity, I'm also checking your muscle tone."

"Doubting your first impression now?" she asked somewhat playfully. "By the way I talk, I'm not the furtive girl I seemed to be only a few moments ago?"

Felix huffed and smirked. "Oh, even more now because I've never heard a girl your age using the word 'furtive' in a sentence." he said sarcastically.

"So now we're just being sexist, huh?" she shoved him softly and smiled back.

"I believe the proper term would be 'chauvinist'." Felix replied, talking scholarly and with an accent.

Just as she was about to retort playfully back, she burst out laughing. Soon enough, Felix chorused her laughter. _Things are going to go quite smoothly, aren't they?_ "I don't think 'know-it-all' would be bad in this case, either." she murmured through the mirth.

Somehow Felix had turned around and fell silent and serious again. He paced back to the window, with his eyes fixed wide upon something dangling in the corner.

Azalea stepped to his side and looked up too. "A spider?" she asked, a little mad that it had disrupted their enjoyment. "They're most intriguing creatures." He said, lifting his index finger up to it.

"You actually… like spiders?" she raised a brow.

"I always have. Even when I was a very young boy." He let it creep onto his finger with its many fragile legs. Azalea couldn't help letting some of the fear slip through her countenance. She bit her lip watching him. He caught the look. "Many people are quite frightened of them."

"I wonder why…" she said lowly under her breath.

Felix shot her a glance that told her a story of why she should have kept that thought in her head. "It's because they have eight legs, instead of two and multiple eyes, instead of one pair. It's because they're different." The spider, being smaller than his fingernail, was half-way up his arm and a bark brown. "Really, there are magnificent, beneath their appearance though. In a matter of a few days, up to a week, they can create more intricate patterns than one who has studied the art for half of a century."

Letting what he said sink in for a moment, she realized something. "You feel a bond with it, because you're a stylist and all."

"Yes, in that respect. And not the only respect, I can assure you." he ended grimly. "I have sympathy for it too. Humans…" he transferred the spider to his other arm. "Are so afraid of things that aren't… normal; things that don't follow the norm."

She didn't miss his connection to Panem and the Capitol. They certainly didn't like those who thought differently, those who started uprisings. "Do you collect spiders?"

"What?" Felix shot a confused look at her.

"Some people collect things they're interested in. I mean do you keep some in like… a jar or-" His horrified countenance and an evident shudder made her cut herself off. _I should have just bitten my tongue, right?_

In one great leap, the spider flew from Felix's arm and once again to its beautifully crafted web. A wave of guilt came over Felix and he held out his index finger encouragingly to the arachnid again. "Oh, like a trap, a prison?" his deep eyes bored into her like knives. "Like the Arena?"

Everything hit her hard. She tore away the gaze, flushing slightly. "You… you don't like the Hunger Games."

"Obviously..." Felix said bitterly, gritting his teeth.

"They give you your job though… don't they?" she said somewhat apologetically. "Sorry if I'm being stereotypical, but I thought people in the Capitol got a kick out of the Games?"

Outside the sun had risen above the horizon, the golden morning rays fading to orange in the windows. Felix looked straight into it and took the spider up. "As surprising as it may seem," he smirked inwardly at a new idea. "There is a diminutive group of us here that _are_ pessimistic." He let the spider dance on his fingers. "In fact, we may be the only intelligent ones, or at least right in the head." A frown curled down on his face as he turned back to her. He closed his eyes and turned his head to the right. "You underestimate the power of the Capitol, Azalea Fellin." When he looked back, the frown had been exchanged for a grim smile.

Azalea fearfully began to retreat a little when he walked to her with the spider in his palm. Now the dark grin showed on his face. "I-I-I'm sorry! I just didn't know! I could have expected you to be like that!" It wasn't the spider, but Felix's expression that sent a chill down her spine. _You've messed up now…_ She flinched when he took her hand and raised it to chest level. "Stop; I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She closed her eyes and averted her head back, trying to tug away.

A bit harshly, Felix grabbed her wrist and tugged her back. Her eyes were wide with panic, glittering helplessly like a small flame. Her eyes met with the pair of abyssal coronas. And it only stunned her more when he threw his head back and laughed.

Smiling warmly again, he gently placed the spider in her palm. "Don't worry, it won't bite you." he grinned when she jumped a little.

Reluctantly and stiffly, she let the spider crawl up her wrist. She relaxed a little at Felix's words. Her face flushed red with anger and embarrassment. "What was that?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?"

A hearty laughter erupted from him again. "That, my dear, is called acting; a skill you may need at the Hunger Games." He held out her arm. "Relax a little, it's only curious. Aren't we all?"

It surprised her greatly that she actually felt better after following Felix's words. The spider stopped and looked up at her expectantly. _This isn't so bad…_ She offered a slight smile in return. Her face didn't return to a scowl. "What exactly do you mean, 'a skill I might need', exactly? And I thought you just said you hated these Games."

"I do." Felix smiled at the sight and sat on the bed. He was glad someone else could share his interests. "And I'm afraid I can't tell you that. You're smart; I don't have doubts that you'll figure what I mean."

Surprisingly, she found the spider quite cute, the way it curiously traveled from one arm to another. "Felix…"

"Hm?"

"Have you… have you ever…?"

"Have I ever what?" he raised a brow.

The spider wove a small pattern down her finger and dangled off the tip. She swung it gently. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like… if there weren't any-?"

At the same moment as she was about to finish her sentence, a bloodcurdling scream came from down the hall, as well as a gunshot.


	9. Woes and Regrets

After a few more loud bangs, it was quite evident that someone, (or something,) had just been shot. And it was almost assured to everyone in the District 9's building who had heard it, that whoever, (or whatever,) was shot, was dead.

Down the corridor, second door on the right from Azalea's chambers, Laelia jumped; more at the gunshot than the scream though. She threw on a silken robe from her now large closet (which, she thought, was the most gracious gift she could have ever been given) and scurried for the door. The smallest little hole had been carved at eye level, for the tributes to look out of, for whatever reason, which Laelia used to look out of. "Damn it." She breathed. "What's going on, out there?" she didn't dare raise her voice, or leave her bedchambers, for that matter. Not until she could make out the figures of the boys running down the corridor, the wrong way from where their room was located. (It made absolutely no sense to her why they shared a room. Not that they weren't friends, she just thought they'd rather have their own rooms, that's all.)

Laelia's door opened swiftly, but quietly as she made her way out and trailed the boys with her hair bobbing gracefully behind her. A wary, almost frightened Azalea, she dared admit, gazed wide-eyed at Felix, who shared a mutual expression and instinct. But it was the stylist who dared to raise to his feet first. The gunshots had discontinued. Thousands of questions roared in her mind, making her head throb with all possibility.

She could only wonder how Felix was so casually walking to and opening the door. In a careful stalk, she followed directly at his heels. By the time she had reached the door her heart pounded. She was relieved when she heard the furious trainer's voice echoing down the hall.

"What the bloody hell is this mess?!" Lupe shouted, to the one who possessed the weapon, Azalea assumed. "Must you scare the poor tributes with that racket?! Sounds like someone just got damned in here!"

Lupe's witty complaints would have been enjoyable, under different circumstances. "My apologies, Mister Aureu. But if I may be bold; wouldn't you rather have your tributes alive for the Games, rather than murdered wastefully?"

"They're going to be murdered wastefully anyway!" Lupe retorted, almost snarling.

"Not necessarily." The man, who now stepped past Azalea's bedchamber door, was tall, in uniform and was bald. "I think your tributes have quite a high chance of being a victor this year." He smiled in that charming way which was only ever used if one wanted something, or wanted to end a conversation.

"You don't have to be a kiss-ass, Quintus." Lupe smirked grimly. "I just want to know what the hell you're doing with that gun." His sharp eyes averted to the object the guard held in his hand. Quintus held the barrel up to his lips and blew into it. "I'm protecting your tributes, Lupus."

The guard's looked backwards over his shoulder to two other guards. "It's alright, gentlemen. Step back, so Mister Aureu here can see we aren't just messing around." Azalea could hear the two other guards shift away from each other.

Whether or not she wanted to look was not something she had decided yet. Neither did the countenances of her fellow tributes do much to alter her decision. Laelia bit her lower lip, trembling a lot more than one could in the bitterness of winter. The pair of blue misty windows belonging to Caden, were wide and, to Azalea, in a deep state of shock. No obvious emotion met Derek eyes' or face, but something about the aura around him just didn't seem like his norm. _He's probably trying to look tough compared to all of us. Such a conceited child. _

Even Lupe looked pretty shaken and he looked the calmest out of the group. The curiosity was digging at her with iron nails, against every warning that the tributes' faces brought. Moistening her lips with her tongue, the pair of fire-like orbs peered around from the doorway.

Standing there were the two guards, dressed and formed alike. They both held guns with two hands, looking as neutral as possible. The carpet below their feet was originally beige; soft but neat looking, curled into microscopic ringlets, almost wool like. But stained into the flooring were specks of crimson. In dead center between the men, the morning light pouted onto a broken figure. Blood poured from the wounds of the lifeless form, almost covering the entire torso, staining through the cloth, trickling from the mouth. The blood was messily patterned onto the face as well; that of a young girl, not looking terribly much older than Minnie.

Sickened, her stomach twisted into a ball and her throat tightened up. "I think I'm going to be sick…" she breathed, only loud enough that Felix would probably hear. Feeling awfully light-headed now, she barely managed to spin around. With every last effort she was trying to keep from blacking out.

Felix hadn't heard her, but the way she looked told him all he needed to know. A now concerned Felix caught her with one arm, caressing her sympathetically as she puked. He could have cared less if any got on his shirt. _Those sick monsters…_ she thought.

"Now let me explain; this girl is a wanted murderer, as unlikely as it seems. She was part of a secret conspiracy against the Capitol and His Presidency, Dykes." The voice of Quintus said from behind her. "This," he lifted up a cruel edged blade horizontally in his large palm. "was found in her pocket."

Suspicions arose in the corner of Felix's mind, but he didn't let it show. At this point, people could care less what Quintus said. Lupe was already standing next to Felix. He glanced quickly at the sickly girl, then to the other tributes. "One of you, get some water." He shooed them with his hand. _They're probably sneering at what a sap I am._ It wasn't her fault she was just the nerd book girl. Sure, she knew a few moves from hunting with her brother. But when it got down and dirty, like bloodshed, she was just the lost little puppy, trying to fit in with the big dogs.

But she was grateful to whoever went to get the water. Her throat felt horribly dry and tasted awful. To her, it only seemed like seconds before the person knelt down to her side and offered her the water. "Thanks." Her voice was slightly hoarse. She could have cared less whose generosity she had to thank. She gulped it down in another few seconds, as if she had been deprived of liquids for two weeks. (She knew that feeling, during the long drought about three years ago. It was the worst year she had ever experienced, behind this one with the Games. And she knew very well, it was probably her last. What a pity.)

"'That make anything better, Fellin?" Lupe's voice rang through her ears. An answer came quickly, with her puking the water right back up onto the floor. "I'm going to take that as a no." he stated curtly. "I don't think she'll be able to make it to the Opening Ceremonies today…"

"I'm alright!" Azalea protested loudly, and still a bit gutturally. With a cough she began to support herself. "I'm alright." She insisted again. "You-you don't want to be seen as a weak competitor, with a sick tribute." A rough hand reached her shoulder, preventing her from standing up too quickly.

"I'll only allow that if you wait for some medicine. I can't have you throwing up at the Ceremonies either, Fellin."

"Fine." She said, maybe a bit too harshly.

"I'll stay with Miss Fellin until you return, Mister Aureu." Felix offered, letting his back position erectly to see the trainer, and out of the corner of his eye, the two guards blocking the view of the dead girl once more.

A frown was carved onto Lupe's face as he shook his head. "Not today, Felix Jenkins." His head jerked in the direction of the west wing. "Your presence has been requested by your fellow stylists. Your actual occupation comes first in this situation."

Disappointed and even feeling a bit guilty, he frowned back. But he knew what Lupe said was no less than the truth. "Quite correct." He patted Azalea's shoulder comfortingly and rose to his feet.

"I'll stay with her, Lupe." Azalea's heart almost stopped, her senses restored to the point where she could recognize voices of people she couldn't see. _Caden…_ She had to force herself to breathe.

"You sure, Dire? You'll be awfully late, and _your_ stylist surely isn't as patient as Mister Jenkins is here, to your misfortune."

"I'll deal with her later." Caden said smugly. "Tell her an emergency came up. Surely they don't need all four of us there to come up with a theme."

Lupe was readjusting the cuffs of his dirty jacket, as well as the moth-eaten collar, faded to a light tan. "Sure. Just don't be too long, Dire." he said quite distantly, as though he could care less, and in fact he could. The Capitol and its infamous ceremonies were what he hated most, and would have avoided them completely, had he been given a say. He didn't quite understand why the tributes had chosen him as a mentor, and he thought bitterly about it. Then again, it was early in the morning, and he was sure he would feel contradictory about the matter later. But never mind him now.

"The rest of you, downstairs." The hem of his coat swished back and forth as he walked down the hall and turned a left. "Um, Mister Aureu? The staircase to our conference room is to the right." Felix called with a raised brow.

"Oh, I know!" Lupe called back. "I'm going to get something to eat before my stomach starts to sound like a bear!" And then he disappeared.

Azalea made her mind fade out of focus, making the minutes pass by in a dizzying blur. She didn't feel as sick really, just extremely drowsy. The voice of Caden brought her back. "Azalea? You sure you're okay there?"

Everything about this wanted to make her growl. What was up with this guy? He couldn't truly be so anxious about this situation. And never once had she been afraid to speak her mind, regardless of how much trouble it had dragged her into. "Why would you care so much?"

His warming laugh only sunk her temper lower. She just barely held back from her hand making hard contact with his face. To her it was all out of mock. "Is there some law against such? Am I not allowed to express my concern for a friend." His legs straightened and he held down his hand to help her up.

It was only too easy for her to reject the offer. "I'm no friend of yours." She attempted to pierce her cold gaze through him. According to the ample grin that was spread across his face, it hadn't worked.

"But that would be for me to decide, wouldn't it?" His hand was still kindly there, although something told her that he knew of her rejection.

With a now narrowed gaze, she rose to her feet, using the doorway for support, and evidently trying to avoid Caden's help. _There's only one reason he'd act so nice to me now. He hasn't given any reason to turn so much interest towards me until this point. _"You're just trying to exploit the moment shrewdly." She pretended to brush some dust off her shoulder to avoid his gaze, that one that trapped her the first time. She knew plenty well from hunting experience: The same animal will never fall for the same trap twice if it's been released.

An inward smirk dawned upon her as his smile became evanescent.

"Have I reopened a wound, now?" she inquired pryingly as she leaned back.

As confident as she sounded, she was questioning her own feelings down to the deepest chamber of her heart. Why was she feeling so murderous? For the first time, she realized how depressing it was to look into the eyes of a sad puppy. "I… I seem like that to you?"

Every last bit of her told and tried to convince her of an act. A very good act. Guilt crawled up her throat. She hadn't meant to be so mean, to bring out an uncontained dark side. One thing for sure, she didn't want to the bad guy here. _Crap, I'm falling again. Just pull yourself together, Lea. _

"Well, it's the Hunger Games. Everything is going to be an act anyway." she continued, choosing to stick with the tone. Even if everything was going to be revolutionized, she wanted to stay as sincere as she could, or sound that way at any rate. Peering down the corridor, she saw that the body had been removed. Seeing it gone in so little time almost made her sick again, (not to mention that her distrust of the Capitol had plunged even further). "Besides," she started, eager to get her focus all away from the murder. "why would you be so interested in me all of the sudden? You're still in love with Lilac." _I hope I got her name right._

"I'm not interested in you like that, Azalea." Caden looked quite pensive now. "What I'm interested in is a friendship. Can I at least ask for that?" His lips were parted a little, meaning to say more, until a young man came back with some medicine. "Miss Fellin?"

"Yes." _To hell with the remedy right now._ All concentration was focused on Caden; the poor boy hadn't asked for any of this. _Who would ask for heartbreak? _

It took a few moments to realize she was just staring into distant space. "Oh, right." A bit too rapidly, she took the medication from the man and thanked him. She couldn't even avert her attention to where the man sped off to. _Why can't you be friends with him Azalea? You may want bonds, but not tight bonds. And you've already seen how close you got to him once… too close._

"Well, I'll see you later then…" The boy that was standing next to her only moments ago was halfway down the hallway, halfway gone. "Oh, and about Lilac," his eyes turning on her were full of melancholy and regret that the subject was even brought up. "We parted after the Reaping. She knew the odds." Without another word, he stayed the course, forwards.

But to Azalea, everything slowed, and her mind was taking a timely plummet into a dark regret.


End file.
